


Eyes Like The Sea

by wildknees



Series: At Swim [1]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-16
Updated: 2013-06-09
Packaged: 2017-12-05 12:28:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,762
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/723317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wildknees/pseuds/wildknees
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Loras cannot believe his bad luck. Someone with his skill, his <i>potential</i>, sent to squire for frivolous Lord Renly? It just wasn't fair, and Loras is determined to hate his new lord, no matter how charming or handsome he proves to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

It was a hot day in a summer that showed no sign of ending, the beauty of the Reach was in full bloom, and Loras Tyrell was miserable. The gods must have been mocking him by presenting such a beautiful sight on his last day at Highgarden. Tomorrow would be the last time he'd look at it for who knew how long, years perhaps, and to make it even worse, the place he'd be going to was... well...  
  
Loras turned away from the view of the gardens and paced across the terrace restlessly. Willas sat in silence, surely preparing for what he knew his brother was about to say.  
  
"I don't want to go," said Loras for what must have been the twentieth time. Willas sighed.  
  
"You don't even know what it will be like. Go to Storm's End, and give it a chance."  
  
"I don't need to 'give it a chance'. I know what it's like squiring for a high lord. Father's squires hardly have anything to do - they get about as close to battles as the sun does to the moon."  
  
"Only you would complain about squiring for someone like Lord Renly. You won't be ignored, Loras. Renly will have his duties to attend to at Storm's End, but I'm sure he'll devote plenty of time to you and your training."  
  
"He's not a knight," Loras grumbled, another grievance repeated for what must have been the twentieth time. Willas sighed again.  
  
"He _is_ a knight, and a lord as well," he said, which made Loras turn away with a huff. "He's one of the most notable men in the kingdom. The lord of the Stormlands, brother to the King - I know you're arrogant, Loras, but even you cannot deny that there are few men who it would be more honorable to squire for."  
  
Loras could not care less about _honor_ in a matter like this. Renly had received his knighthood at the same time he received his lordship, and it was said that Renly was only a child then, so what could he truly know about becoming a knight? And why couldn't Willas understand that? Loras glared at his brother in silence, and Willas' amused smile just made him angrier.  
  
"Who, then, would you rather squire for?" Willas asked.  
  
"A knight, a proper knight. Ser Barristan Selmy's squire is likely to be knighted soon, I could take his place, or Ser Arys Oakhart could take on a second squire..." Both men did more than sit on a fancy chair and listen to smallfolk complaints all day, and better yet, they were members of the Kingsguard. It was Loras' private ambition to join the Kingsguard and take the Kingslayer's record as the youngest member ever, and there would be no better way to achieve his goal than to squire for one of its current members. "Or a sworn sword of Highgarden, or even some hedgeknight who at least _earned_ his title. Anyone but Renly."  
  
Willas was not convinced. He raised an eyebrow at Loras. "And how do you think father will feel when you tell him that you won't go squire for Renly? You know how pleased he is about arranging this. After all, the lord of Storm's End might have a very good reason to begrudge the Tyrell family."  
  
Loras bristled. How many times had that been brought up, and what did Loras have to do with the Siege of Storm's End? He'd been no more than a babe when it had happened. "He's not a knight," he repeated petulantly.  
  
"He is a knight, and he's a kind, charming man who's very intelligent and agreeable. I met him last year when he was jousting at the tournament for the King's nameday."  
  
Loras perked up at this. "Did he do well in the tournament?"  
  
"... No," Willas admitted after a pause, "he rode only twice before being unhorsed. But that was against a knight far older than himself, and the crowds still cheered for him, even in defeat."  
  
Loras shrugged away the small remaining hope he'd had. "They weren't cheering for his skill, then. What does it matter?"  
  
Willas sighed. "Loras, come here."  
  
"I don't want to."  
  
"Loras," Willas said, and Loras grudgingly shuffled over to sit on the edge of the stool that Willas' bad leg was propped up on. Willas reached out to rest a reassuring hand on Loras' knee.  
  
"You need to give it a chance. Renly may not be as perfect a warrior as you expect you should squire for, and perhaps you won't be riding into battle as often as you like, but there's more to squiring than that. And this is still a wonderful opportunity. Storm's End is an impressive sight, and you can train with the master-at-arms there. He'll have a different style than Ser Vortimer so there will be plenty to learn. And just think of the friends you'll make in a new place."  
  
Willas had always given good advice, but there was nothing he could say to make this any less horrible. "I don't care about friends. I'll have to leave behind my family when I go."  
  
Willas raised an eyebrow in amusement. "And tell me, how would that be any different than if you were going to King's Landing instead?"  
  
Loras ducked away, caught in his own words. "It wouldn't," he admitted.  
  
"Exactly. Now you're just complaining for the sake of complaining. You'll like it, Loras. I promise you will."  
  
 _I won't,_ Loras told himself.


	2. Chapter 2

If nothing else, Willas had at least been right that Storm's End was an impressive sight. The top of the tall castle appeared over the edge of the horizon first, a single cylinder of stone crowned by massive battlements, followed then by the high wall that surrounded the city. There was the Narrow Sea as well; the smell of salt filled the air long before the castle came into sight and as they drew closer, Loras could hear the crash of waves coming from Shipbreaker Bay.  
  
Despite its bleak appearance from the outside, the people within the walls of Storm's End were cheerful and high-spirited. Common folk called out their wares to those who passed, some advertising items that had arrived from Lys or Braavos that morning, and when they arrived at the castle gates there were servants waiting to welcome them. They said that Lord Renly was holding court in the High Hall of the castle and would be awaiting their introductions.  
  
One of the knights who had accompanied Loras on the journey, bent to speak to Loras as they neared the hall. "No need to be nervous. I'm sure you'll do just fine squiring for Lord Renly," he said reassuringly.  
  
Loras _wished_ he felt nervous. Instead, all he felt was miserable. His sullen expression upon leaving Highgarden had been mistaken for sorrow over leaving home, and though Margaery had done all she could to console him, there was no comfort she could provide for this. It wasn't fair that Loras of all people should be stuck here when he had such a promising future as knight. Now he deeply regretted keeping his Kingsguard ambitions private. As they passed through the huge stone archway into the High Hall, Loras desperately asked every god he could think of that Renly should not be the lazy, idle lord that Loras feared he was.  
  
The hall was large and crowded with the lords and ladies of the court and those waiting to bring their petitions before the liege lord. An attendant led their party to the front. The crowd parted before them and the head of the hall came into sight, with Lord Renly at the center of it.  
  
Loras could not help but stare.  
  
In all he had heard of Lord Renly, not one person had mentioned that Renly was so young. He looked no older than fifteen or sixteen, easily the youngest official on the dais at the top of the hall, and yet he did not look out of place presiding over the court. There was a calm competence in his green eyes as he elegantly slouched in the stone lord's chair. It could not have been a comfortable seat, but Renly looked so relaxed and confident sitting in it that it was impossible to tell. The edges of an easy smile played at his lips as he listened to the two smallfolk before him pleading their opposing cases.  
  
"It was _Theem_ who started it all, m'lord," one of them said as he pointed at the other accusingly, "He waited until nightfall, and then he stole _three_ sheep from my field. My farmhand was watching my flocks all night and he didn't see no one. But Theem's field is right next to mine, there's no one else what could have done it."  
  
"That's not true!" argued the other. "I didn't steal no sheep, m'lord, I swear it by the Seven. But Varn came over and said I did, and that night _four_ of my sheep disappeared. He took them, he must have. It's just as he says - my shepherd didn't see no one, but no one else than Varn could have done it."  
  
Stolen sheep, smallfolk arguments; this must have been a common complaint brought before the lord, but Renly did not look uninterested. He leaned forward in his chair and regarded the farmers with what looked like amusement.  
  
"This is a strange crime indeed. And such an interesting tale, being that, as you assert, you had farmhands watching your flocks throughout the entire night." He turned to the court at large. "Who can I blame in this act? Perhaps _Thieving Theem,_ who stole his neighbour's sheep, after first discovering the secret of invisibility? Or maybe _Varn the Vengeful,_ who, believing he had been wronged, morphed himself into a specter and retaliated by stealing even more sheep?"  
  
The people of the court were hanging on Renly's words, ready for some great jest, and the smallfolk quickly erupted into a fresh round of accusations on the other. " _Or,_ " Renly continued, interrupting their arguing, "more believably - was it the Wendwater wolf pack helping themselves to the tasty bits of lamb wandering freely and unattended in the fields?"  
  
Laughter burst forth from the crowd. Renly smiled good-heartedly at the smallfolk. Their faces were turned away, but it was clear that they were dumbstruck by the realization of the true culprit.  
  
"I suggest you both dismiss your current farmhands and hire more dutiful shepherds to watch your flocks at night," Renly continued, "I'll send two of my hunters to patrol the edge of the river until the wolf pack is driven away. Does this satisfy you?"  
  
There were a great many _thank you_ s and _m'lord_ s as the farmers shuffled from the hall. Loras had not realized that he'd been laughing along with the court, and he was annoyed when he found that he was still grinning. He forced a neutral expression onto his face.  
  
An attendant waved him forward. Loras had finally worked up some nervousness that he could not place and he was not sure his feet would carry him, but he strode forward before the dais with his retainers behind him.  
  
"Lord Renly, I present to you Loras Tyrell of Highgarden, son of Lord Mace Tyrell," the attendant called out.  
  
A bright, handsome smile lit up Renly's face at once. "Loras Tyrell!" he said warmly as he stood to descend the stairs. It had been apparent even when he was seated, but he was tall and broad of shoulder, dressed richly in the finest green silk with his hair an elegant tumble over his shoulders. His arms were spread in welcome and for one terrifying, exciting moment Loras thought he would hug him. "I had hoped that you'd arrive today. Welcome to Storm's End! I hope it will be to your liking."  
  
Renly's smile was even more breathtaking this close and Loras felt almost weak in the knees. He knew he should speak, but he could not think of what to say. Garlan had taught him some words for his arrival; he'd planned not to use them until he learned what type of man Renly truly was, but he was so flustered that he found himself dropping to one knee and repeating the words anyway. "My lord, I am most honored that you have taken me as your squire. I swear to you that I'll be loyal and dutiful, and that I'll protect your life with my own."  
  
"Rise, Loras," Renly said, and Loras got back to his feet to look up at him. Renly had stepped off the platform onto the ground floor but he still stood almost a head taller than Loras.  
  
"Thank you, my lord," was all Loras could think to say, dumbly.  
  
Renly reached for him then. Loras expected Renly to ruffle his hair, like adults always seemed to do, but instead Renly placed the hand on his shoulder. He turned Loras to lead him from the hall.  
  
"There are so many things I want to show you. Where to start? Hm, the garden first of all - now you mustn't compare it to Highgarden, but I think you'll agree that-"  
   
"Lord Renly," a voice called before they could reach the archway. It was one of the council members from the top of the dais, a bald man with a red beard. He looked at Renly levelly. "Loras Tyrell and his retainers are likely tired from their journey. Perhaps give them time to wash and rest, and you can continue your introductions at dinner tonight."  
  
The smile dropped from Renly's face, though it reappeared so quickly that it was almost impossible to notice. "Yes, you're right," he said, and turned to Loras again. "I'm getting ahead of myself. My household will show you to your quarters. No need for us to rush off, is there? We'll have a long time together anyway!"  
  
Which was perhaps the worst thing Loras could hear right now as all his worries came crashing back, but he bowed graciously and followed the servant that beckoned him from the hall.  
  
His retainers left for the visitors' quarters of the castle while Loras was led to the squire's chambers high up in the tower and half a turn below the lord's chambers. They were more spacious and brightly lit than Loras had expected from such a dark looking castle, but he could not bring himself to be happy. How many years would this be his home for? If Renly was as idle a lord as Loras feared, if Loras had no chance to prove himself deserving of a knighthood, then he could all but forget his dream of breaking the Kingslayer's record as youngest member of the Kingsguard ever. He was already nearing twelve. Two years was not much time to earn a knighthood, and with Renly, it might be impossible.  
  
Loras sighed and flopped down onto the soft featherbed. He wished he hadn't been such a fool in the court. He had meant to be courteous, yes, but not quite so gracious and fawning. He'd just been so flustered that he had not been thinking right. Worse, the brief encounter will Renly had given him no answer to his most pressing question. Was Renly a great knight, or did he spend all his time warming that stone chair? He had been ready to leave the court behind in an instant, so perhaps he was not so set in his duties, but that could mean anything.  
  
A knock at the door brought in a serving girl with a tray of peeled fruits. She laid it on the bed next to where Loras was still morosely sprawled, and he eyed it with disinterest. The fruits all looked small and pale compared to those of the Reach.  
  
The girl noticed his lack of appetite. "Is there anything else I can bring you, m'lord?" she asked, concerned.  
  
_Not unless you can bring me back to Highgarden,_ he thought, but instead he asked her, "What's Lord Renly like?"  
  
"Oh  m'lord, he's the kindest man you’ll ever meet. He could charm anyone, I'm sure. And such a wit on him! The stories he tells have us all in stitches sometimes."  
  
She was speaking honestly, that much was clear in her face. Loras frowned. All everyone seemed to talk about with Renly was how _kind_ and _charming_ he was. No one told Loras what he truly wanted to know.  
  
"Has he been in many battles?" he asked the girl.  
  
"I'm afraid I don't know much about battles, m'lord. I'm only a servant." She laughed suddenly as some memory came back to her, but quickly covered her mouth. "Apologies, m'lord. Though he says he's _quite_ the warrior, far as I know."  
   
Of course a serving girl would not know these things. Loras nodded and dismissed her from the room. Not for the first time he wished he could just find out the truth of Renly's character and be settled. He was no good at sitting around and waiting to see what would happen.  
  
He dragged himself from the bed, leaving the tray of fruit untouched, and moved to the window. Far below was the practice yard. In the mid-day heat, only a handful of men were doing drills and a few squires were sparring among themselves.  
  
Loras knew he should wait in his room until someone arrived to show him around the castle, but his curiosity was too great. If the yard would be the only place he'd actually get to use his sword, he needed to know what it would be like.  
  
Finding his way to the ground floor was easy enough, though the path he followed outside led him around the back of the sheds housing the training gear rather than to the training yard itself. It was for the best, he decided. From here he could judge for himself the skill of the knights of Storm's End. He edged up beside one of the sheds where he could peek through the thick bushes into the yard.  
  
One man in particular stood out to Loras. He was old, perhaps fifty, with a single tuft of greying hair at the top of his head. One might have considered him fat if he were not so heavily muscled. He was shouting drills at the practicing knights in a powerful voice that echoed throughout the yard.  
  
"He must be the master-at-arms," Loras said to himself.  
  
"He is."  
  
The voice startled Loras so badly that he leapt to his feet, crashing into the person behind him. Strong hands steadied him before he could topple forward. He whirled around and found an amused looking Renly, who laughed at the shocked look on Loras' face.  
  
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to frighten you. Well, perhaps I meant to a bit!" Renly grinned. "I went looking for you, and Prilla said you had come in this direction."  
  
Loras was still unsettled, but he quickly remembered his manners. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have gone wandering."  
  
"Oh, it's perfectly fine. I suppose you're not much for waiting around?"  
  
There was something taking about Renly, but Loras refused to be as awestruck as he was in the hall. He nodded. "That's true, my lord," he said  
  
"Are you so eager to train that you don't even want to rest first? You were right, that man is the master-at-arms." Renly pointed over Loras' shoulder to the man Loras had been observing in the yard. "Ser Soren Grayle is his name. He'll teach you a thing or two about ancient siege weapons, whether you want it or not! I would not bring up the topic around him if I were you."  
  
Finally, Loras had a chance to get some idea of Renly's bearing. He peered up at him. "Was he the one who trained you?"  
  
"About ancient siege weapons? Well, he's tried!" Renly laughed. "I've had a bit more success staying awake when he talks about modern weaponry. And you, Loras? Are you skilled at combat?"  
  
"Yes," Loras answered.  
  
Renly laughed again. "And you're humble, too! I wonder how far both those things will carry."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
Renly was tall enough that it was easy for him to reach into the open window of the shed. A moment later he drew out two wooden practice swords. "How about a friendly match?"  
  
Loras' eyes widened and he could not stop the smile that came to his face. This was more than he'd hoped for so early. A match between the two of them would not reveal much of battle experience, but it would certainly allow Loras to judge Renly's skill. " _Gladly,_ " he answered. Renly tossed one of the swords over and he caught it easily.  
  
The bushes that blocked the yard were thick, but there was enough room to slide past the shed. Loras stood back to let Renly pass. "After you," he said.  
  
Renly hesitated and held back. "I was thinking we could keep this just between the two of us."  
  
Loras glanced around the narrow area between the sheds. There was not much space and he thought it a strange choice of place to spar, especially when the yard was right next to them, but it would be enough. It did not matter where they were, as long as Loras got a chance to see how Renly fought.  
  
Loras lifted his wooden sword into position, and Renly did the same. His stance was poised and steady, but limber, and he adopted a good position for fighting without a shield. It was clear that he had been trained well.  
  
Renly jumped forward, striking high so quickly and suddenly that Loras barely met it. The blow had great strength behind it, but Loras managed to withstand and deflect it. Again, Renly struck at him, three times in quick succession, though this time Loras was better prepared to block them. He jumped back out of Renly's reach, watching as Renly went back into the same poised stance.  
  
"Good so far," Renly said, vaguely impressed.  
  
"You're not half bad yourself," Loras could not resist saying.  
  
Laughing, Renly lunged forward to press the attack again, their wooden swords clacking together as Loras warded off the blows. Renly managed a few hits to Loras' thigh and ribs, but he did not swing hard enough to hurt. It seemed a game more than anything to him, as evidenced by his grin.

Despite his original intentions, Loras found he was enjoying himself as well. He'd been playing the defensive side as he watched Renly's abilities, but they fell into an almost dance as Renly drove Loras back.  
  
Renly seemed to steel himself, then swung forward hard. It was a deliberate drive intended for Loras to easily block, but Renly leaned so much force into it that Loras' sword arm trembled beneath the stress. Renly's height made the angle awkward and difficult to hold up against, but Loras thrust it aside as he jumped back again. Renly slashed at him as he retreated. Though his reach was long, Loras moved too quickly for him to hit.  
  
"What's the matter? Are you afraid to hit me?" Renly called, grinning. "Then that's your first duty as a squire - to not hold back!"  
  
"I don't need to be told," Loras replied cockily. Fear of hurting a liege lord was not what had held him back, though Renly's encouragement did embolden him. He studied Renly's stance; his height gave him advantage, but he held his sword high, which meant that Loras' own height could be of advantage as well. Quickly, Loras lunged forward, ducking low and swinging his sword up in a high arc.  
  
But that's when it went wrong. Renly had not moved his sword to block, but kept it in a striking position. Too late he realized his mistake, and the attempt to change the angle meant that the block missed completely. Loras' sword whirred past his own and there was a horrific _crack_ and a shout of pain at the same time as it hit him straight in the face.  
  
Renly reeled back, falling stunned into the grass. He clutched at his eye; bright blood was already seeping out from between his fingers and dripping down onto his clothes.  
  
Loras was frozen in horror, unable to do more than just gape. He hadn't meant to... that wasn't... that blow had been meant to test the strength of Renly's defences, not to actually hit him. But it had, and the blood pouring down Renly's face was proof of it. Gods! Loras had not even been at Storm's End for a day, and already he'd already half-killed his lord!  
  
Drawn by the shout, Ser Soren appeared a moment later, stepping through the thick bushes as easily as if they were water. His eyes fell on the bleeding Renly and his face twisted in alarm. "What's the meaning of this?" he demanded. He grabbed at Loras roughly, catching him around the neck and holding him so tightly that Loras was forced up to his toes. " _Who are you!_ "  
  
Loras desperately pulled at the huge hand around his neck in attempt to free himself. He could only wheeze, so powerful was Soren's grip, and the fury in the man's eyes blazed like wildfire. Panicking, he swung a hard kick out, but his legs were too short to reach. Soren's grip tightened menacingly.  
  
Renly was already getting to his feet. "It's alright, Ser Soren," he called. Blood dripped steadily down his face from the wound above his eye where the wooden sword had hit him but he sounded more amused than anything. "We were sparring, and I'm fairly certain that I just lost. May I introduce my new squire, Loras Tyrell."  
  
The hold around Loras' neck was released and he stumbled to get his footing back. When he glanced back up at Soren, the man's expression had changed completely. All traces of anger were gone and he was actually smiling down at Loras.  
  
"Gods! Loras Tyrell. Third son of Mace Tyrell, aren't you?"  
  
" _Yes,_ " Loras said. His voice was little more than a whisper as he caught his breath.  
  
Soren turned to Renly. "I've already heard tell of this one. I'm afraid you're out of your depths facing him, my lord."  
  
"Thank you, Soren, I've realized that," Renly replied as he pointed to his still bleeding head. Laughter rose up around them. The squires and knights from the yard had gathered at the edge of the path and were watching the scene in amusement. Renly grinned at them.  
  
"Well, I'm sorry for the rude welcome, Loras." Soren reached out to ruffle Loras' hair with the same hand that had been strangling him a moment ago. "Welcome to Storm's End. Why in the Seven Hells would your father give you to Renly to squire?"  
  
Loras did not like the turn of phrase - _give him_ to Renly, he was not _given_ to anyone - but he liked the implication of the words even less. Was the master-at-arms belittling Renly's skill right in front of him? "I don't know," Loras answered at last.  
  
"Truly, I don't either."  
  
"Now Soren, don't worry him," Renly said carefully.  
  
"Ah, you're right. Renly has a great number of battle victories. Why, just last week he defeated a most fearful beast!"  
  
"Soren..." Renly warned again, though it was clear he was already sharing Soren's amusement over something.  
  
"Oh please, my lord. It's such a good story, and you tell it so well," Soren pleaded, still chuckling. There was a chorus of agreement from the knights surrounding them. All apparently knew which story Soren was referring to and were eager to hear it again. Loras glanced over at their intent faces. They loved Renly, that much was clear. Loras was feeling bolder. A lord needed great battle renown to be loved by his knights, did he not?  
  
"Are you a great warrior?" he asked Renly tentatively.  
  
Mischief twinkled in Renly's green eyes as he smiled down at Loras. "I will tell you this story, and you can judge for yourself," he said. Loras nodded.  
  
"The first I heard of the beast was from Prilla, here in the castle," Renly began, "You remember the girl who brought you your food in your chambers? She's the one. A kind, honest girl - she'd spotted the beast, and truly, I've never seen such a look of terror as what I saw on her face when she came to me."  
  
"What was it?" Loras asked.  
  
"I could not be sure. But she told me where she'd encountered it, and I knew I could not let such a creature continue to terrorize my people. I tracked it to its lair. I cannot say that I was not frightened as I drew near. I even wondered - why me? Why should I be the one who must face this beast? But I forced myself onwards, driven by the need to protect my people. At last I reached it... I tell you, Loras, there has never been anything like it in these lands. When I laid eyes on it, I wondered if that hideous visage would be the last sight I'd ever see."  
  
"What was it?" Loras asked again. Perhaps it was just the drying blood on Renly's face, but now Loras could almost picture him as a great warrior, mailed in armor with a great sword in hand. Something was growing in his chest at the tale.  
  
Renly shook his head darkly. "At that time, my heart was so heavy with fear that I could not even think its name. But my blood was alight with the will to rid myself of the beast, and still I moved onwards. I approached it... slowly... it took noticed of me then, and I could tell in the reflection of its many grotesque eyes that it would not let itself be taken easily. It steeled itself for battle... I did the same... and do you know what I did then?"  
  
Renly had leaned in closer as he spoke, so now his face was all that filled Loras' vision. Loras' head was swimming. The scent of blood in the air, the dark look in Renly's eyes... had he been so wrong? Was Renly truly this great of a warrior? He felt like he was hanging on every word that Renly spoke. " _What?_ " he breathed anxiously.  
  
"I captured it in a goblet and set it free in the gardens."  
  
Loras blinked. If there was some riddle to the victory, he did not understand it. "... My lord?"  
  
"There it is!" cried Renly. He pointed at the corner of the shed, and Loras whirled around to see a fat spider lazily spinning its web there. Its coloring was unusual and bright, so perhaps it had come from another land, but it was still just a spider.  
  
It felt like a bucket of ice water had been dumped over Loras' head. "That... that story was about a _spider?_ "  
  
"You cannot imagine the joy and relief of the servants after I removed it."  
  
"A great victory!" one knight shouted, and the others laughed, Renly along with them. Soren clapped Renly on the back while laughing raucously.  
  
Loras could feel his face growing hot with anger. He knew he was not being mocked, yet he felt offended. That was it? That was Renly's supposed _great victory?_ Was he meant to be amused?  
  
Renly leaned in close. "Now tell me, Loras, do you think me a great warrior?"  
  
Loras barely resisted the urge to scream.


	3. Chapter 3

The raven had arrived two days past: raiders laid siege to a castle in the south of the Stormlands, and the besieged lord called to Storm's End for aid. Storm’s End’s answer was marching forth, a seemingly endless line of knights, squires, and men-at-arms riding out from the city gates with tall Baratheon banners above them. The wind was only strong enough to make the banners dance, but it was much more powerful where Loras stood at the top of the high city wall. It whipped at his hair and blew sprays of sea salt against his skin, but he stood watching until the last yellow banner disappeared over the edge of the horizon. He would have given anything to be among them.  
  
In the month he’d been at Storm’s End, Loras had found squiring for a high lord every bit as dull as he imagined. He accepted that Renly was no great warrior, and that he’d never been in any great battles, but he hadn’t stopped being unhappy about it. The host marching out was a painful reminder of what Loras was missing out on. He may have been small for his age, but he was not the child that most people seemed to treat him as. He was a good fighter and was better than any of the squires who had rode out that day.  
  
With a heavy heart, Loras made his way down from the wall. He was sweating by the time he reached the castle grounds again. It was a different type of heat in the Stormlands, thick and muggy, and the high city walls meant that there was not even any breeze to cool the air. The past few days had been hotter than usual and the training yard was near unbearable in the sweltering heat, but Loras headed there anyway.  
  
Though only a small portion of Storm's End's army had left, the yard still felt empty to Loras. Even Ser Soren was nowhere to be found. Soren had turned out to be one of the few good things that had happened to Loras since coming to Storm’s End. The master-at-arms had taken exception to him and often devoted time to training Loras specifically. At least _someone_ realized he deserved better than Renly.  
  
Still, Loras could not bring himself to be entirely happy about it. Even training with the master-at-arms was nothing compared to what it would have been like for those squires who got to ride out to battle with their knights, and Soren's comments often reminded Loras of why he was so miserable here:  
  
"You ought to get your master down here to train more often. Then you can knock some sense into him!" Soren had said once, "Didn't quite work the first time you hit him..."  
  
Soren made similar jokes every other day, but there was truth in what he said. Loras could count on one hand the number of times that that Renly had been to the practice yard. Even when he _was_ there, he did not seem to care much for training. He made jokes and jests with his knights all the while, and just when he seemed to be putting himself fully into the training, he'd declare himself finished for the day and retire to a long bath.  
  
Loras tried not to mind too much. Renly's visits to the yard were the only chances he got to dress Renly in his armor (even if it was only practice armor), but it renewed the fear that he'd come to Storm's End with: that Renly did not know the first thing about what it meant to be a knight. Or if he did, he cared more for enjoying himself than for glory.  
  
_Enjoying himself_ was a thing that Renly truly excelled at. Parties, feasts, masquerades and balls... An endless cycle of lords and ladies from the Storm Lands were always passing through, and Renly entertained them all. They laughed at his jokes and stories and were charmed endlessly by his wit. Loras sometimes felt like he was the only one in all the Seven Kingdoms who didn't adore Renly. He was not fool enough to show any of his dislike, and it was easy to fake a smile as he stood by Renly's side, but often he wondered why Renly had even bothered taking a squire. And if he had, why it had to be Loras.  
  
Annoyed, Loras kicked at a stone in the yard, sending it flying into the bushes. Maybe it would hit and kill that stupid spider. It made Loras angry every time he remembered it, how the tale of bravery had built up his hopes, and then crushed them to nothing. The knights loved Renly for that story and all its fantastical embellishment, just like they loved all the stories Renly had told since.  
  
And yet, those stories were very different from the bizarre things Renly said when he was alone with Loras (which happened more often than Loras would like, and was more fun than Loras would admit). Renly would take them hawking or riding, or they'd go down to the markets, but more often it was things like skipping stones over the pond in the gardens or walking in the Stormwoods. Renly would talk all the while, though Loras was not sure if the things he said had any point. He would say, "The sky is such a lovely shade of blue today, I should like to have a cloak in just that color," or "I would live at the very top of that mountain over there if I were a dragon," or "Did you know that in Yi Ti there's a type of fruit that will poison you if you don't eat it with salt?"  
  
Loras did not know how to respond to any of these, and he’d never heard Renly say anything half as bizarre to anyone else so he had no cues to follow, but courtesies came easily enough and Renly seemed pleased with his replies. All things considered, Loras thought he was doing a fine job of hiding the fact that he often wanted to strangle Renly. It annoyed Loras when, hours later, he'd recall some joke that Renly had made during one of their excursions and find himself snickering at it. So what if Renly was clever. Loras just made himself remember that Renly had not been in one battle in his entire life, and he was back to despising him again.  
  
Renly was likely still meeting with his household. As the lord of Storm’s End, he had a great number of duties he needed to attend to daily. Loras knew he should not blame Renly for spending so much time occupied with his lord’s duties; and yet, he did. At least Renly often dismissed Loras during the boring household meetings and long days in court. Loras never complained if he was required to stay and play the attendant’s role, but he’d rather devote his time to more useful things. Today, he decided he'd take out a wooden dummy and work on his swordsmanship. Maybe he could imagine the wooden man was Renly and work out some of his frustration.  
  
As if summoned, Renly's infuriating face appeared around the edge of the shed just then. The bruising around his eye had long faded, though there was still a faint red mark from where Loras’ sword had broken the skin. Now his green eyes sparkled with amusement as he watched Loras struggling to lug the practice dummy out.  
  
"It's far too hot for that right now, don't you think?" he asked.  
  
"No," Loras answered flatly. Renly was probably right. The past few days had been even hotter than usual, and there hadn't even been any rain to cool the lands. Loras would make himself sick from exertion in this heat. He was too stubborn to admit it, though, and he'd already decided that he did not want to do whatever it was that Renly had found him for. Maybe Renly would see that he was busy and leave him alone.  
  
"I've got a better idea. Come with me."  
  
Renly led them to a _beach,_ of all places, a sandy inlet outside the city walls where the waves were not so strong. They sat down in the soft sand beneath the shade of the trees that lined the coast. Renly leaned back on his elbows with his long legs stretched out in front of him, apparently not caring about the sand ruining the silk of his clothing. For someone who put so much effort into the way he dressed, he could be awfully careless sometimes. Loras sat beside him and glared out at the sea. He refused to admit how beautiful the place was, nor how good the breeze off the water felt against the heavy heat of the afternoon.  
  
Groups of children were swimming some distance down the beach, stripped down to their smallclothes and blissfully oblivious that the lord of their lands was within shouting distance. Loras watched them absently, not really listening to whatever Renly was going on about. It was some rambling story or imagining or observation, but he didn’t hear any of it until he realized that Renly had stopped talking. He turned to find Renly gazing at him.  
  
"Am I boring you?" Renly asked.  
  
Loras stiffened. "Of course not! I was just..."  
  
"Just?"  
  
Loras shook his head. "I'm sorry. Please continue."  
  
A smile came to Renly’s face. "You don't have to put on this perfect act around me, you know.”  
  
That probably shouldn't have made Loras feel as nervous as it did.  
  
"My lord?"  
  
"All the manners and courtesies, proper behavior and fake smiles for the court. It gets exhausting sometimes, doesn't it?" Renly smiled sympathetically. "Gods, if I had to be the perfect lord all the time I'd have grey hair already. We need moments like these."  
  
"I'm... I'm not acting..." Loras stammered.  
  
Renly raised an eyebrow at him. "Oh really. No one is that perfect. I'm sure even you must be terribly cross with me sometimes."  
  
Loras hesitated as he searched for some way to deflect the statement, and the hesitation made Renly laugh.  
  
"So it is true!" he said.  
  
"It's not!" Loras protested, but it was futile. Renly had seen right through the lie, and was greatly amused by it. Loras was not sure if he should be irritated or nervous. He had been daydreaming instead of listening to Renly, yes, but the suggesting that Loras was acting or even annoyed with Renly at other times was truer than Renly realized.  
  
Loras huffed. What did it matter if his courtesies were fake, to Renly or anyone else? He did what was expected of him, even if it was difficult with a lord who enjoyed sitting by the beach rather than fighting, or ladies who spoke to him like he was half his age. He did it all with a smile, and they all believed it… except Renly. Loras shifted uncomfortably, pushing some of the sand away with the heel of his boot.  
  
"Come now. What were you daydreaming about just now?"  
  
Loras glanced over at him. He suddenly had a strange feeling that something looked different about Renly, something in his face or expression, but he was not sure what. Unnerved, Loras turned back to the sea. The children were still splashing in the waves and Loras felt too exposed to tell a convincing lie right now, so he told the truth.  
  
"Just that, it would feel nice to swim today."  
  
Renly hummed in agreement. "Wouldn't it? It's strange. Nobility has it easy in so many ways - we're never wont for food, or clothing, or coin, and we can entertain ourselves however we please. And yet, the smallfolk have more freedom in things like this. Just think of what would be said if _we_ were seen swimming in our smallclothes. There would be an uproar.”  
  
"We're all just as hot on a day like this, but we could only swim if we came back after nightfall,” Loras agreed.  
  
Renly grinned and sat up to lean in closer. "Is that a suggestion?"  
  
"No!" Loras said quickly. He truly hadn't meant it like that, no matter how badly he wanted to swim. "We couldn't. It's... ignoble."  
  
"Ignoble? I suppose it is. Nice, though."  
  
Loras looked at him again. Renly was closer now, and Loras still had the feeling that something was different about him. He was even more puzzled when he finally realized what it was.  
  
Renly noticed his curious look. "What is it?"  
  
It was such an odd question that he was sure it would make him sound mad, but Loras could not resist asking. "Are your eyes blue?"  
  
"Yes they are." Renly smiled at Loras. "Did you think they were green?"  
  
Loras nodded. He hadn't paid much attention to Renly's eyes since the first day he'd arrived at Storm's End, though Loras had always been under the impression that they were green. Now that he looked, he could see they were a bright, clear blue.  
  
"They tend to take on the color of what I'm wearing. And since I happen to think I'm _particularly_ handsome in green, they look green most often."  
  
Loras laughed. Renly was still dressed in green today, beautifully patterned silk with a matching pendant around his neck, but the bright blue of the sky above them and the sea before them meant that the true color of his eyes came out. Knowing Loras was still watching, Renly batted his eyelashes like a maiden, and Loras laughed again. Sometimes it was hard to hate Renly.  
  
They lingered by the sea for most of the afternoon, and Loras felt mildly disappointed when they finally left the beach to return to the castle. Supper was uneventful, and the party afterwards was much the same. At the end of the night, Renly turned to Loras on the stairs as they climbed to their rooms. For a moment Loras thought it would be to suggest they should sneak back to the beach to swim, but was not that.  
  
"I almost forgot to tell you. Tomorrow we'll be paying a visit to Lord Kothren. He's dammed the river that passes through his lands, which has slowed the water to the farmers downriver and their crops are suffering for it. I must go and ask him to take down the dam."  
  
“Ask him?” Loras asked, puzzled. “Why don't you just _tell_ him to take it down? You're the lord of the Storm Lands."  
  
Renly looked enormously fond of Loras for a moment. "Lord Kothren is proud. He'll be much more agreeable if I pay him a personal visit to ask."  
  
"But why should you indulge some proud lord, when he's one of your bannermen and he should do whatever you ask?"  
  
"Have you heard the phrase 'you catch more flies with honey than with vinegar'?" Renly asked. Loras nodded. "Then that's why. It will be a useful day for you, I think. And I'll need you to tend my horse, and help me dress for the journey.  
  
Loras perked up at this. A chance to finally dress Renly in more than practice armor? He felt far happier than he had in a while as he laid down in bed. It was still too hot to be able to sleep much, but whether he was awake or asleep, he spent the night dreaming of dressing Renly in his beautiful armor before the two of them rode out into a great battle.  
  
When morning came, Loras rose far earlier than necessary to polish and prepare Renly's armor for the journey. He always thought Renly’s clothing was over the top, but his armor was the most beautiful that Loras had ever seen. He stared longingly at the full set of tourney armor. It was far too much for a visit to a bannerman’s stronghold, though maybe one day Loras would be allowed to dress Renly in it. Instead, Loras selected a set with only a gorget, breastplate, and pauldrons. Even the simple armor was gorgeous. It was etched with intricate designs and the metal was the finest that could be made. It looked even more magnificent after Loras had thoroughly polished it.  
  
"All this?" Renly asked when Loras brought it up to him. He’d barely gotten out of bed and was still rubbing sleep from his eyes. "Well, you've certainly managed to get a shine to it..."  
  
Renly hardly needed help with the armor; it was so simple he could have easily dressed himself, but he smiled sleepily at Loras' enthusiasm and let him fasten the buckles. Simple or not, Loras would not miss this chance. It may not have been tourney or battle armor, but it was the first time Loras had dressed him in more than practice armor, and that counted for something.  
  
Once Renly was dressed, Loras hurried down to the stables. He was annoyed to find that a stable boy had already prepared their horses - that was meant to be Loras' job, but he did not complain. He was too excited for the journey. He led the horses around to where the travelling party was assembling near the castle gates.  
  
As the group came together, Renly's earlier comment suddenly made sense. “ _All this?_ ” The knights in the escort were dressed in ornate armor that proudly displayed the Baratheon sigil, but the other officials were no more armored than they were for a day at court. Renly was the only one of them with steel beneath his riding cloak.  
  
Renly always carried himself with enough confidence that he did not look strange among the others, and Loras was the one who was left feeling embarrassed. Why hadn't Renly said anything? Was he just indulging Loras to keep him happy, like he was doing with Lord Kothren? Another fly that he tried to lure in with honey, perhaps. Loras snorted. Renly’s attempts to please him just made Loras hate Renly worse.  
  
Loras’ mood darkened even more as they set off for Lord Kothren’s lands. He’d gotten his hopes up, just like when Renly told that stupid story about the spider, and it made the sting of disappointment sharper. Of course it was stupid to wear armor for this. They saw no one on the road other than a few farmers in their fields, and it was barely an hour’s ride until they reached the stone stronghold that Lord Kothren kept.  
  
“I know why you’re here,” Lord Kothren said as they dismounted, “And the answer is _no._ My people’s crops have never yielded better, my lands are flourishing, and I _will not_ take it down.”  
  
Renly smiled at him. “Lord Kothren. Shall we go inside?”  
  
They did not go inside. Instead they went to the blooming gardens at the side of the keep. Whether Lord Kothren welcomed Renly’s visit favorably or not, he’d laid out a meal fit for a lord of Renly’s standing. It was another blow to Loras’ ego. He’d been so excited, and for what? A _picnic,_ more than anything. “ _It will be a useful day for you,_ ” Renly had said, but Loras couldn’t see any use to it so far.  
  
Loras led the horses to the stable. Most of the party had sat down to feast when he returned, and Renly was seated at Lord Kothren’s side. Loras took his place at Renly’s elbow, playing the attendants duties that he seemed to play far more often that any martial duties. He was hot and uncomfortable in the afternoon heat, but as he listened to the conversation, it somehow seemed he hardly noticed the heat anymore.  
  
It was like magic as Lord Kothren became more agreeable under Renly’s carefully administered charm. Renly explained the troubles of those down river, and how those troubles spread to the rest of the land, and the damage it brought to everyone. And it made sense. Soon Lord Kothren was in agreement with Renly, and even his squire was nodding along. In what seemed like no time at all, Lord Kothren gave his assurances that he would personally oversee the removal of the dam the next day.  
  
Loras was left baffled. He’d been at Renly’s shoulder the whole afternoon and had barely noticed when they’d switched from amicable discussion of the happenings in the Stormlands to Lord Kothren’s dam, or when the gruff man who had greeted them earlier that day had turned over to want the dam removed even more than Renly did. Loras was certain that he would have never been able to convince Lord Kothren of the same thing himself, even if he had a year to explain it. As much as Renly’s charm annoyed him, this seemed almost amazing.  
  
Ser Soren came to Loras’ side as Loras retrieved the horses again. “It’s a strange thing about Lord Renly, isn’t it?” he asked, grinning at Loras’ vexed expression. “It doesn’t matter how they start out, Renly can win over anyone. I wonder if there are any that have escaped his charm.”  
  
Loras could think of one, but he said nothing. What was it that made people love Renly so much? And _how_ did Renly do it? Loras wished he could learn to do the same. Perhaps he could ask Renly to teach him. It only took a few moments for him to decide against it again. He’d grit hit teeth and bear his time with Renly as long as it took to earn his knighthood, but he refused to admire Renly.  
  
They'd been out in the gardens all afternoon, but Loras had not noticed the clouds darkening in the sky until they began to ride back to Storm’s End. The rain was just beginning to fall as they reached the city gates. Everyone was relieved by the rainfall. The oppressive heat had made sleeping almost impossible the past few nights. The rain would cool the lands, and tonight, finally, they'd all be able to get some rest. During supper Loras already found himself dreaming of lying in bed with the rain and the low thunder in the distance lulling him to sleep.  
  
But as the evening wore on, and the wind picked up and more dark storm clouds rolled in, Loras realized that he would not find sleep in this.  
  
Thick wooden shutters were closed to shield the windows in Loras' chambers from the wind and pelting rain, but they did nothing to keep out the sounds of the storm. The thunder sounded as if the gods were splitting the sky into pieces. The crash of waves in the bay was loud even on mild days, but in the fury of the storm it was near deafening. Worst of all was the wind, screaming and howling around the tower. It seemed to be almost a living thing, angry and vengeful as it threw itself against the castle. There was no respite, not even for a second. The stone seemed to shake at times, and it rumbled along with every crash of thunder.  
  
Loras could not bear to be close to a window when it sounded as if the storm would rip into the room at any second. Instead he sat in the hall with his head on his knees, trembling all over and deeply ashamed on top of it all. He was nearly twelve, he should not be so frightened of a storm! But he’d never seen a storm as terrible as this one, and no matter how he tried to force himself to get up and go into the room, he couldn't.  
  
He took a shaky breath and drew his knees closer to himself. Tears gathered in his eyes no matter how hard he worked to force them back. Loras was no coward; he would stand up to any man or beast, any challenge no matter how daunting it was, but how could you stand up to a storm?  
  
"Loras? What's the matter?"  
  
Loras nearly jumped out of his skin. The noise of the storm was so overpowering that he had not heard Renly approach, and the concerned voice startled him as badly as the thunder.  
  
"N-nothing," he said as he got to his feet and hastily wiped the tears from his eyes. He was already feeling horrible, and being found crying only made him feel worse. "I was just..."  
  
Unfortunately Renly seemed to read his thoughts. "Is it the storm you're frightened of?"  
  
"I'm not frightened." He hoped it didn't sound like as much of a lie as it felt. It probably did, though, because Renly smiled at him sympathetically.  
  
"You don't have to worry, the castle has seen far worse storms than this one. If we were on the other side of the sea wall then we'd have cause to worry, but we're quite safe in here."  
  
Renly’s reassurance made him feel no better, and it made little sense. Shipbreaker Bay; its name alone spoke of its horrors. "Why would anyone try to brave a storm like this?"  
  
"Some men are bold and believe themselves above the gods’ reach. And some have no choice. The storms blow up so quickly and then make it impossible to get inland to safety." Renly paused contemplatively. "That's how my parents were killed."  
  
Oddly, it had never crossed Loras' mind that there had been a Lord and Lady Baratheon ruling Storm's End before Renly. Renly was so confident and comfortable ruling even at his young age that Loras foolishly assumed it had always been that way.  
  
"I'm sorry," was all he could think to say  
  
"Don't be. It happened long ago, before I'd reached my first nameday. I don’t even remember them."  
  
For a moment Loras tried to imagine what it would be like if he had been in Renly's place. If his parents had died when he was a babe, if he had grown up never knowing them... He suddenly found himself even closer to tears than before.  
  
"Loras!" Renly took him by the shoulder. It was meant to be a calming gesture, but Loras flinched away in embarrassment. He bit his lip hard and tried to blink away his tears.  
  
"It's nothing! I'm fine."  
  
Renly was quiet as he studied Loras' face. "Come up to my rooms," he said.  
  
The last thing Loras wanted to do was to go up higher in the castle and be even closer to the storm, but he could not admit to Renly that he was scared. He nodded and followed Renly up to his chambers.  
  
The shutters in Renly's solar were open and the near constant flash of lightning illuminated the dark, rolling clouds in the sky. It was beautiful and terrifying at the same time, and Loras was reluctant to move any further into the room than the doorway. Warily, he edged over to a chair close to the inner wall as Renly spoke to a servant. The servant closed the shutters and left the room, and then Renly came over to sit with Loras.  
  
Loras was so anxious that he could barely sit still. Every crash of thunder rattled his nerves, and the howling wind made him want to hide his face and cover his ears like a child. Soon the servant returned with two mugs of hot tea. Loras held his between his hands, feeling the warmth spread through his fingers. It settled his nerves a bit, and finally he felt steady enough to speak.  
  
"Do you miss them?" he asked quietly.  
  
Renly glanced up from his own mug. They had mentioned no more of the topic since the hallway but Renly seemed to know exactly what he was talking about. "I never knew them," he said, "I think I missed the idea of them when I was younger. But to say I miss them as you miss your parents? No, I don't. I can't."  
  
Loras tried to imagine it again. Renly was right, it was not the same as losing the parents Loras had now. Renly’s parents had brought him into the world, and perhaps he heard stories of what they were like, but they were faceless people he had never known. Fear from the storm had left Loras feeling more vulnerable than usual, but he was certain that this would make him feel sorry for Renly even at his bravest.  
  
"It must have been difficult knowing that the other children around you had parents, and you did not."  
  
"I didn't know many other children,” was Renly’s reply.  
  
That was terribly sad. Even Renly seemed more subdued. There was a far off sadness in his eyes, but hope as well. Loras gazed back at him. _Blue,_ Loras reminded himself. His eyes were blue. If Loras truly looked, he could see it.  
  
Renly frowned at him. "This is just upsetting you. Let's speak of something else."  
  
Just then there was a horrible crash of thunder so loud it seemed to be just outside the window. The room shook with the force of it and Loras was on his feet before he knew it.  
  
"M-may I go, my lord?" His voice shook wildly as he asked. He felt like his heart was in his throat.  
  
"Go where?" Renly asked, confused. Loras’ terrified leap had startled Renly into knocking his own mug to the floor. The tea soaked into the ornate Myrish carpet but Renly ignored it, instead watching Loras worriedly.  
  
"To the ground floor of the castle. I... I can't... We should both go."  
  
Renly reached over to rest a reassuring hand on Loras’ arm, like he was soothing a horse that was about to bolt. "No, Loras, sit.” He tugged at Loras’ sleeve, though Loras did not budge. "Sit down," he urged again. "It’s just a storm. I've not seen you so shaken by anything before.”  
  
Loras was far too terrified to pretend to be brave anymore. He didn’t want either of them to die as the walls crumbled. "We need to go. The castle is going to fall, I know it."  
  
"I can assure you that it won't. As I told you, it's seen far worse storms than this one." He gave Loras’ sleeve another tug. " _Sit._ "  
  
Reluctantly, Loras sunk back into the chair. He hated Renly more than anything right now and it still felt like his heart was about to burst out of his chest.

Renly smiled at him. "You really have nothing to worry about. Did you ever hear the history of this castle?"

Loras needed something, _anything_ to distract him right now, or he'd go mad. He shook his head and looked at Renly desperately.  
  
"The castle was built in the Age of Heroes, when Durran, the first of the Storm Kings, took the daughter of the sea god as his wife..."  
  
Renly told the tale of how the gods had been angered that Durran took their daughter and doomed her to a mortal life by doing so, so the gods sent wind and storms to destroy Durran's castle. The castle collapsed beneath the fury of the storm. Durran survived the wreckage, as his wife, Elenei, protected him, and he vowed to rebuild. Again and again the gods sent their storms to destroy Durran's castles. Six times they tore the castles to the ground, until finally Durran built a castle like no other. The walls were one hundred feet tall and eighty feet thick, with spells woven into the stones so that no evil could pass. Again the gods tried to rip the castle to the ground, but no matter how strong the winds blew, or how high the waves were, the storms met their end against the walls of the castle. And so Storm’s End earned its name. Though the gods continued to send their storms, the castle stood strong, and Durran and Elenei lived in peace until the end of their days.  
  
Loras usually tried to ignore Renly’s stories, though he knew that Renly was a skilled storyteller, and this was proof of it. Loras had almost forgotten about the storm as he listened to the tale. He could not be certain of the truth of the story, but if the castle had withstood even the fury of the gods then it could weather a mere storm.  
  
“Do you feel safe in this castle now?” Renly asked.  
  
“Thank you,” Loras said. His voice was still quiet, but it was steady now.  
  
Loras returned to his own chambers. A servant must have come in to hang thick blankets over the window shutters to muffle the sounds of the storm. Either the blankets truly did muffle the noise, or the fury of the storm had quieted, because the wind and thunder did not frighten Loras nearly so much anymore.  
  
Loras undressed and climbed into bed. He still felt unsettled and it was not entirely lingering fear from the storm, but he just thought of King Durran and Elenei, and Renly’s blue eyes, and he was finally able to close his eyes and drift off to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Loras fingered the hilt of his sword as he watched the people milling about Storm's End market. To passersby he looked innocuous, a young squire at his lord's side. They did not know the truth of it - that Loras alone had been charged with the task of protecting Renly from danger. An escort of guards was not needed. As long as Loras had a sword at his belt, he could protect Renly from any threat that appeared.

Sighing, Loras shook his head. His imaginings were getting as bizarre and pointless as the ones that Renly always blathered on about. Renly didn't need anyone to protect him in the markets of Storm's End, Loras or otherwise. They were in no danger here. The people called out to Renly adoringly and several merchants tried to offer Renly gifts just for passing. It seemed everyone in Storm's End adored their liege lord, which was not a problem, but it meant that the only reason Renly had for bringing Loras with him was, perhaps, a second opinion.

"What do you think of this as a gift for my royal brother?"

The table they stood at had an assortment of jewels on display, and Renly held up a large golden brooch in the shape of a stag's head. The brooch was nearly as big as his hand with the antlers. It had bright sapphires for eyes and a colorful assortment of gems running up each antler.

Loras had never seen King Robert, but he was certain he would have heard if the king dressed anywhere near as flamboyantly as his youngest brother did.

"It's a bit bold," Loras said.

Renly grinned. "You're right. In fact, I think it will look much better when I wear it with _my_ armor."

The thought made Loras scowl in annoyance. " _When?_ " he asked. He could already imagine the brooch gathering dust with the rest of Renly's tourney armor.

"At Robert's name day next month. He hosts a large tournament every year, a grand event with hundreds of knights that travel from all over the realm. It's magnificent, and something that I could not bear to miss."

Suddenly Loras was near breathless. "You'll... you'll be participating?"

"I will," Renly answered him, "But what I want to ask is if _you'll_ be participating."

"I will, my lord," Loras assured him eagerly, already brimming with excitement. A tournament would be a chance for Loras to finally perform real squiring duties. Renly would joust, and perhaps he'd fight in the mêlée, and Loras would be there to help him through all of it. "I'll dress you in your armor, and prepare your horse, and attend to you on the field-"

Renly laughed and laid his hands on Loras' shoulders to steady him. "No, Loras, _listen_ to me. Do you want to participate in the tournament?"

" _Me?_ " Loras asked. He'd jousted in some of the smaller tourneys at Highgarden and within the Reach, but participating in the king's tournament was very different. "But I'm only a squire."

"And a skilled one too. I've heard of your prowess in the yard - I've seen it, actually, and I dare say that you already outmatch many of the knights who come to the tournament. It would be a shame not to see it."

Loras was sure his body had gone numb. "I can... _I can joust in the tournament?_ "

"You can joust, you can join the mêlée, you can throw axes - you can do all of it, anything you like."

For a moment Loras stood frozen in disbelief, certain that he was dreaming. Then he leaped up to throw his arms around Renly's shoulders. It surprised Renly quite obviously - Loras had never been affectionate and it was even stranger in a market crowded with people, but Renly laughed happily and spun Loras around before setting him back down.

" _Thank you,_ " was all Loras could say. He was smiling so widely that he must have looked ridiculous, but he could not hold back his joy. "Thank you thank you _thank you!_ "

Renly grinned back at him. "You don't need to thank me. You deserve it."

No matter what he felt before, Loras could not make himself hate Renly right now. He took Renly's hand and held it in a promise. "Truly my lord, _thank you._ I won't disappoint you."

"I should hope not. If you're this happy just for entering, I'd love to see you when you win!"

* * *

 

The party that set out for King's Landing was enormous: knights, squires and pages, servants, officials, lords and ladies of the court, all travelling in an extravagant line of carts, wheelhouses, riders on horseback, and those on foot. Loras felt like they were moving agonizingly slowly, though it was a more than reasonable pace. He'd barely been able to sleep in the past weeks for thinking of the tournament and the day could not come soon enough.

He had thrown himself into training more than ever, spending every moment he could in the practice yard with Ser Soren. Renly had not seen fit to do so; he practiced only at his usual relaxed pace, but it did not seem to annoy Loras as much as it usually did. Loras was the only squire from Storm's End who would be competing in the tournament. Renly may have not been much use to Loras otherwise, but allowing him this almost made up for it.

When King's Landing finally came into view Loras was sure he would faint. The sight of the tourney grounds outside the city gates filled him with a thrill like none other. There were at least a hundred pavilions in a rainbow of colors already set up, and builders were busy erecting the gallery while droves of servants measured the fields and hung the banners.

It was disappointing to be staying at the castle rather than among the pavilions like the other knights and lords who had travelled for the tourney, but it could not be helped, being that Renly was brother to the King. At least their arrival at the Red Keep gave Loras a chance to pass the members of the Kingsguard. Loras could easily picture himself among their ranks, dressed in white armor with a white cloak over his shoulders. They held his interest much more easily than the royal family, but he played the dutiful squire and bowed graciously to the King. He had been right to imagine that King Robert did not dress as ostentatiously as Renly did, though the family resemblance between the two brothers was clear. Loras had not, however, pictured the King being quite so fat when he'd heard the great tales of Robert's warhammer, but he didn't ponder on it for too long. Everything dulled in comparison to the moment Loras had been waiting for.

It was like stepping into a dream when it finally came. The morning light lit up the blazoned shields that lined the paths as they wound their way among the pavilions. The bustle and clangor of the hundreds of knights preparing for the tourney around them was better than the sweetest music. Best of all was the thought of what was to come. Loras' heart skipped a beat when finally he reached for the first piece of Renly's tourney armor.

"There are squires enough to help me with my armor. You can go prepare yourself," Renly said, but Loras only determinedly laced up a vambrace. He would not give this up for anything.

"I'm doing my duties," he insisted and ignored the amused look that Renly gave him. It was the same look he had seen on Renly's face the morning when Loras had dressed him before they visited Lord Kothren's stronghold, as if Loras' enthusiasm seemed too endearing to resist. At least Loras knew he wasn't dressing Renly for nothing this time.

"Alright, do as you like. But once we get to the field you'll really have your work cut out for you, between both of us jousting. Do you think you'll do well?"

"Yes."

Renly laughed. "Modest as ever!"

Loras glanced up at Renly as he attached the gorget. Its edges were detailed with shining green filigree that lent its color to Renly’s eyes, giving them a decidedly green tint today. "I would not be competing if I did not intend to do well."

"Fair enough!" Armed in all but the helmet and gauntlets, Renly tested the movement of the armor a few times before nodding in acceptance. "Now wish me luck, and go get yourself ready."

"You don't need luck," Loras told him.

" _You_ don't need luck," Renly said, laughing again, "I need all the help I can get. But your faith in me is encouraging."

Loras' own smaller pavilion was set up next to Renly's, just as it had been as they travelled. Another squire called Ronall had agreed to help Loras with his armor. Ronall was a man grown at seventeen, talented with a battleaxe and likely to be knighted soon but more than a little scatterbrained. Half the time he seemed too mesmerized by the pieces of Loras' armor he picked up to remember to attach them. Loras could not blame him for that. It was beautiful bright silver plate with flowers and vines etched into each piece, and every flower had been painted in green and gold.

"It's so beautiful. You're so lucky to have armor like this," Ronall told him as he bent to fasten the buckles between the breast and backplate, "though it's a bit large for you." Even with Loras' thick padded shirt and Ronall tugging the buckles to the last notch, the breastplate still didn't sit snug to Loras' chest.

"It belonged to my brother Garlan when he was my age," Loras said proudly. Garlan had given the armor to him as a parting gift when Loras left Highgarden, knowing how Loras had always admired it. "He was... bigger than me when he wore it."

"I was taller, yes, though by then thankfully not much wider."

Loras whirled around, nearly knocking Ronall over in excitement. A huge grin came to his face when he spotted Garlan standing at the pavilion's entrance. He dashed over to throw his arms around his brother.

"Not much taller yet, are you?" Garlan teased, ruffling Loras' hair when they pulled apart. Loras ducked out of his reach. He hated having his hair ruffled and hated to be treated so much like a child, but he supposed Garlan would always see Loras as his little brother, and that wasn't so bad.

"I will be soon." Loras insisted, but he couldn't even try to look put out right now, and a second later he was grinning up at Garlan again. He'd almost thought this day couldn't get any better. "I didn't know you'd be here."

"I expected to find you, but not in armor. Are you really jousting today?"

"Why else would I be in armor?" Loras laughed. "And it's not so strange. I'll be one-and-two in only a few days."

"Even one-and-two is very young to be in a royal tournament. Lord Renly must be very fond of you to allow it. You're getting along, then?"

Loras' eyes darted over to Ronall. The other squire was engrossed in the etching on the armor again and had barely noticed another person entering the pavilion, but Loras was still wary about speaking any ill of Renly around him. "I'll speak to you about it later."

"Come now, we still have a few minutes before we take the field. What's Lord Renly like?"

" _Later._ "

"Oh, alright. I won't interfere with your genius before the joust." Garlan raised an eyebrow good-humouredly. "If we end up facing each other, you'll have to let me win."

"I won't!" Loras protested hotly.

"It's only fair," Garlan teased, "How will it look when I'm unhorsed by the brother who I taught to ride? I'd never be able to find a wife after that!"

Again Loras found it difficult to keep the determined frown on his face. He hadn't realized how much he missed his brother's humor. "I'm not going to let you win," he insisted.

Garlan placed a hand on Loras' shoulder and gave him a familiar, knowing look. "Well, once you start winning, just try not to show off _too_ much."

* * *

 

Renly looked magnificent in his armor, mounted on a tall charger as he took to the field. The sun peeked out from behind the clouds just as he rode to the head of the lists, as if it had been waiting for him to arrive, and set his armor glittering. A thousand faces turned towards him and a thousand voices called his name adoringly. It seemed Renly was a great favorite in King's Landing as well.

Like this, it was easy to see how they could love Renly so much. Loras was half in awe as he passed a lance up into Renly's outstretched hand. He'd never seen Renly look so graceful and elegant, a perfect warrior. This could not be the same man who Loras had thumped over the head with a wooden sword the first day they met.

At the other end of the field was a Westerlands lordling. He wore dark silver armor and a purple cape that was heavy under the weight of gem-cut dragonglass pieces emblazoned all over it. Against any other opponent this remarkable style would have won him favor from the commons, but now he was hardly noticed. The herald called Renly's name and the commons clapped and cheered so loudly that the lordling's titles were all but drown out under the roar.

A horn trumpeted and the riders took the field, gaining speed as they neared each other. Loras held his breath as he watched. Both lances hit their mark and exploded into splinters - the lordling swayed heavily in his saddle and nearly fell, but both were still mounted as they rode to the ends of the lists.

Renly accepted a fresh lance at the other end of the field, and Loras watched curiously as the lordling did the same. Though subtle, Loras noticed it at once. The lordling had changed the way he held his shield, though it could not have been a strategic change. It looked awkward in his arm, like he was having difficulty angling it.

Loras glanced across the field. Did Renly see the same thing?

Again the horn trumpeted and both riders began the tilt. The lordling's lance missed entirely, hitting only air, but Renly's aim was truer and he hit the lordling's shield directly. Though the lordling swayed heavily again, he managed to turned away the point of the lance with his shield and stay on his horse.

"My lord..." Loras said as Renly turned his horse at the end of the field. It was not his place to tell Renly how to joust, but it was his duty to help his lord, and Renly had not noticed the opportunity in the last round. "Do you see it?"

Little of Renly's face was visible behind his visor, but Loras had no doubt that he was grinning as he glanced down at Loras. "Yes. I see it," he said keenly.

 _At last._ With a small smile, Loras nodded and stepped back to let the third tilt begin.

Both men couched their lances and rode out to the field. Loras could feel it - this was it. Again he held his breath as the riders thundered towards each other.

They came together for a third, and final time. Renly's lance hit the lordling's shield in the center once again, but the lordling's lance caught him hard in the side. A second later Renly was falling from his horse and he landed with a painful clatter.

Loras closed his eyes and took a deep, steadying breath.

Renly was nearly to his feet again by the time Loras reached his side. Loras steadied him roughly, not hesitating to let his frustration show.

"I thought you said you saw it," Loras said gruffly.

Renly was silent for a moment as he watched the lordling circle the field in victory. If he'd missed it before, Renly could not have missed the lordling's weak spot now. The injury to his shoulder was evident even in the stiff way he waved to the crowd. It was an older injury most likely, one that had been troubling him for a long while, and the jolt from the first round was enough to make the pain flair up again. By aiming for that shoulder, Renly could have unhorsed the lordling _easily._ He must have regretted it now.

The crowd seemed torn between cheering the lordling's victory and being disappointed by the early elimination by one of their favorites. But then a gasp went up - as the lordling turned, the sunlight caught the glass of his cape. Every facet came to life, glittering like a hundred stars in the night sky, and the crowd decided to cheer him on after all.

"I did see it," Renly said. When he turned back to Loras and flipped up his visor, he was smiling so big that no one would have guessed he'd lost. "I _do_ see it. Where do you think I can get a cape like that?"

... His _cape?_

It took every ounce of willpower Loras had not to shove Renly back down into the dirt. He stormed off to retrieve Renly's horse instead, then sent a page with Renly to help remove his armor because Loras couldn't stand to be near him. He should have known better than to get his hopes up.

He forced himself to push the frustrating thoughts of Renly to the back of his mind. There was no time to worry about that right now. His own first round was coming up fast, and almost before he knew it, he was mounted and taking the field.

First was a knight who was knocked to the ground so easily that Loras hardly needed to hit him. Next was a hedge knight, more skilled than the first, but Loras defeated him just as easily. As more and more opponents fell at the end of his lance, Garlan's words were all but forgotten and Loras couldn't resist showing off a little.

The crowd went mad for him. At the start of the day they knew no more of him than his sigil. Now Loras could hear them chanting his name, clapping and cheering each time the herald proclaimed him the victor of another round. He felt unstoppable, and the admiring faces watching him in action spurred him on even further.

It hit him harder than any lance to realize there were only eight entrants left in the competition. Three more rounds to win, and Loras could be the champion. Among his remaining opponents were several members of the Kingsguard (including the Kingslayer himself), a freerider of incredible skill, and Loras' next opponent: the Hound.

Prince Joffrey's sworn shield was terrifying, to say the least. It was hard to say if he was more frightening with his head bare and the grotesque weeping scars exposed, or in his fiercely snarling hound's-head helmet. Loras steadied himself as he rode to the line. The Hound seemed almost twice his size and was a renowned fighter with both sword and lance. This would be no easy victory, but Loras was ready for the challenge.

At the sound of the horn, Loras took the field. Blood pounded in his ears as the Hound drew nearer and nearer. Everything else faded away until there was nothing left but the lance in his grip and his opponent rushing towards him.

Loras' aim was perfect - his lance hit the Hound's shoulder hard and Loras' heart soared... then the Hound's lance thrust forward so powerfully that Loras' shield split, and a second later he was tumbling out of his saddle and crashing to the ground.

The earth seemed to shake beneath Loras when he hit it. His ears rang from the crash, making the shouts of the crowd painful and disorienting. He could taste blood in his mouth. Laboriously, he got to his feet, feeling pain shoot up his wrist all the while. He shook the remaining splinters from his shield off his arm.

The sting of disappointment was sharp. He'd gotten much further than anyone could expect a squire to get, but it had not been far enough.

He glanced around for where his horse had run to, but it was the crowd that caught his eye. They were waving to... him? Loras blinked back at them. Had he only imagined being defeated? But no, his horse was at the end of the field, calmly grazing on what little of the grass was left after a full day of being trampled. He'd not won. He was covered in dirt and defeated, and the glory was fading fast, and all he wanted now was to get off the field and rest.

The aches of the day set in as he trudged back to his pavilion. He'd not noticed feeling tired and sore while on the field, but it was quickly catching up to him. The camp chair groaned under the weight of his armor as Loras gingerly sunk down in it. He removed his helmet and gauntlets on his own, but had little energy to do more. Where was Ronall? Loras hoped the other squire would remember to come by.

A sound from the entry drew his attention. It was not Ronall, but Renly, stepping inside with a huge grin on his face.

" _Amazing!_ " Renly said, "You were truly amazing out there. Congratulations are in order!"

"What are you doing here?" Loras asked. The final round of the joust could not have ended yet. He struggled to sit up in the chair, and Renly came over to ease him back down.

"Coming to see you, of course! I was up almost two-hundred gold dragons betting on you, but I got too bold and lost it all in that last round."

Loras was not sure if he should apologize for being the cause of the loss, but Renly didn't seem at all disappointed. He was beaming at Loras even as he bent to unfasten Loras' gorget so Loras could sit more comfortably, and his cheery demeanor showed no sign that he cared about or even remembered his own abysmal performance on the field earlier.

"What's the matter?" Renly asked when he noticed Loras' scowl. "Aren't you proud of how you did?"

Renly had pulled out a handkerchief as he spoke and he used it to wipe at Loras' mouth. Loras froze for a moment. He had almost forgotten the blood he'd tasted from his fall, and the feeling of Renly dabbing at his split lip was so odd that all thoughts flew out of his head.

"Well?" Renly prompted when Loras didn't respond. He set aside the stained handkerchief.

Loras jerked and came back to himself. "I lost," he said flatly.

Renly waved a hand. "With a performance like that, it does not matter if you won or lost. You won many a fan today, and you did it without even needing to win the tournament. That's more important than winning, don't you think?"

 _Of course_ Renly would say that. He obviously didn't care about winning - how could he, when he put in as little effort as he did? But Loras held his tongue, knowing that he should not criticize his master like that.

Once Renly started unlacing the vambraces on Loras' arms, however, it became harder for Loras to keep calm. Renly was doing squire's duties for _him._ It was a favor rather than a duty, but Loras could not keep the grimacing look off his face at this sign of how ill-suited their roles were, and had always been.

"You - do you even -" Loras started before he could rein in his temper. He bit his tongue. Renly gazed at him oddly.

"Go on," Renly encouraged.

"Do you even care about what happened today?"

Renly shrugged. "Two hundred gold dragons will be sorely missed, but I'm sure I can get by without needing to mortgage Storm's End."

"I _mean_ in the joust. You lost on your first round, you were out of the tournament almost before it began, and you act like it doesn't matter. You could have easily beaten that lordling, and then all you cared about was what he was wearing. Your own squire did better than you!"

"You're an insolent thing, aren't you?" Renly said with much fondness.

Loras let out a huff of annoyance. "You need to take this more seriously! How can you be so pleased with yourself when you did so poorly?" Renly laughed at that, and it made Loras' blood boil. "You - you - you _never_ practice, you sit around idly and waste your time, and all you ever seem to care about is having fun. You're the worst knight that ever was, and an even poorer-"

Loras' tirade ended with a gasp of pain as Renly tested the movement in his sore wrist.

"Sorry - just, this might be sprained," Renly said as he held it gingerly, "Do you want me to go find a maester?"

" _No,_ " Loras snapped, annoyed. He pulled his arm back and winced as pain shot up through it again. "It's fine. Just leave it."

Renly didn't listen and was already drawing a strip of stiff linen from a chest. He took back Loras' wrist and began wrapping it tightly while Loras glowered at him.

"Didn't you see it?" Loras said as he tried not to wince. "That lordling you jousted against - his shoulder was injured. It was hurt even before you started, and as soon as you first hit him, it started bothering him worse. One hit to that shoulder, and you would have unhorsed him. But you didn't even notice. He forfeit after the next round, you know. You were as good as he was, and you could have easily been in his place and gotten further, but you didn't notice."

Again Renly shrugged, as if it didn't bother him in the least. "Jousting is only part of the tournament. After the joust I can bet, and there's a feast and a ball tonight. And tomorrow is the mêlée, and then another feast and another ball." Renly lowered Loras' wrapped wrist and sat back on his heels to smile at him. "So tell me, what do I have to complain about?"

If Loras had any remaining hope that Renly had some respect for what it meant to be a knight, it was gone now. He had been a fool to even feel thankful to Renly for allowing him to joust. What did it matter, when Renly had done absolutely nothing else for him?

"Why did you take me as your squire?" Loras demanded, unable to bear it anymore.

The question startled Renly and a caught, guilty look came over his face for a moment. "Why? Well - I had come of age and it was time for me to take on a squire, of course. And your father asked me to. I did not suggest it - I only accepted."

"Why did you even bother? I'm not learning anything. It's a waste to squire for you."

"A waste of what?"

" _Me._ "

Renly grinned. "There's that modesty again."

"Can you take this seriously for once?" Loras snapped.

Renly sat back for a moment. He could see Loras' anger, but instead of looking at Loras like he was only a petulant child throwing a tantrum, Renly was considering him seriously. It made Loras feel very grown up, but he shoved away the feeling of pride at that.

"It's true that there's not much on the battlefield that I can teach you," Renly said consideringly. "I'm far from the perfect warrior, if that's what you mean. But why has this just started to upset you now? I thought you'd already gathered that I'm all talk and little action."

The stupid smile that had returned to Renly's face made Loras want to kick him. "Is everything a joke to you?" he growled.

"No, but _this_ is a party, and it's time for us to get back to the keep to dress for it." Renly got to his feet and held out his hand to help Loras up, still grinning that infuriating grin. "Now put away that frowning face, I can't be seen with such a sour looking friend."

"I'm not your _friend,_ I'm your squire."

The smile dropped from Renly's face and turned to shock so quickly that it looked as if he'd been slapped. After a moment, his outstretched hand dropped awkwardly back to his side and he let out a nervous laugh.

"Are the two mutually exclusive?" he asked.

"I'm your squire," Loras repeated, "That's it. That's all." He got to his feet and swept past, unable to meet Renly's eyes.

"But..." Renly said behind him.

"But _what?_ " Loras snapped. He snatched up his doublet and yanked it on, then shoved his feet into his boots.

"Yes, you're right," Renly said at last. "Shall I... go on my own then?"

Still not looking at him, Loras have a sharp nod.

When Renly was gone, Loras gathered up his discarded pieces of armor to prepare them for the mêlée the next day. He cleaned everything, and polished each piece until it shone, and did everything he could not to think about what had just happened. He was still angry at Renly, for how little he cared and how idle and frivolous he was, but the memory of the hurt look on his face was quickly cooling Loras' temper. He had only told Renly what he should have already known, yet somehow he could not forget how shocked Renly had looked.

After he could delay for no longer, Loras finally returned to the Red Keep to join the feast. The celebration was already in full swing, with the hall crowded with guests moving to and fro among the tables while the endless courses were brought out. Loras joined the other squires near the high table where they waited to tend their lords during the feast.

Renly was seated among the royal family at the head of the hall. He had a smile on his face, but it did not seem to reach his eyes. No one noticed. He joined in the toasts and jested with those around him. Great throngs of lords, ladies, and knights all vied for Renly's attention as they milled about the hall, but through all the adoring looks they cast in his direction they could not see his faked cheeriness.

It upset Loras as much as it annoyed him. How was Loras the only one to recognize it? Loras didn't even like him, and yet he knew Renly's moods well enough to see this. " _If I had to be the perfect lord all the time I'd have grey hair already,_ " Renly had said to him once. But it was clear that no one doubted the perfectly lord that Renly was playing right now, not one of them could see the act, and Loras found himself hating them all for it. Did they even know there was a difference between the Renly's courtesies in court and his fanciful chatter in private? Loras could not imagine Renly telling any of _them_ about cloaks the color of the sky or living as a dragon or fruit in Yi Ti.

The hall slowly cleared out as the guests left for the ballroom to dance, and the squires sat down to take their own meals. Loras picked at his food, having no appetite even after a long day of jousting. The few bites he managed seemed to have no taste, though he knew it was the finest food prepared for the King's name day.

He reached for the water pitcher to fill his goblet, not realizing until after he'd poured it that it was wine. Loras had no taste for wine - anything stronger than the sweet fruit wine from the Reach was too bitter, but he didn't care enough for taste right now. It was a good idea, wasn't it? Many men said they drank to forget their troubles, and Loras wanted to forget.

But the more Loras drank, the worse he felt. Renly's pained face hovered in his mind's eye no matter how many times he tried to banish it. _Friends?_ Did Renly really think they were friends? Loras didn't understand how Renly could have made such an assumption, but he must have truly believed it, elsewise he would not have looked so hurt.

Unbidden, Loras' thoughts kept cycling back and back again to that day they'd gone to the beach together. To how badly Loras had wanted to swim and how Renly had suggested they sneak back after dark. Loras played his fake courtesies perfectly, just like he always did, but Renly had seen right through them and called them like they were nothing, like he knew exactly what it meant to smile his way through something he couldn't stand. Had Loras really been that blind? He should have realized then... 

The table cleared around him as the other squires finished their meals and left for the ballroom. Loras felt far too miserable to even think of dancing. His head was swimming from the wine and it was difficult to keep anything in focus. He barely noticed the chair beside him being pulled back, nor the warm hand on his shoulder.

"Loras, there you are!" Garlan said at his side, "Why have you not joined everyone in the ballroom for dancing?"

Loras blinked slowly at him. Garlan had almost slipped his mind. He assumed his brother had done well in the joust, but found that he couldn't remember now. "I'm not... I'm not going to dance."

"You'll break many a woman's heart by refusing to dance. And besides, you need to celebrate! You were amazing on the field today. All everyone has been talking about is the skill of the young Tyrell boy - I was terribly flattered, until I realized that it was not me they were talking about!"

Garlan grinned, waiting for Loras to laugh, but no laughter came. "Are you alright?" Garlan asked.

"Yes," Loras replied groggily.His chest ached and his head was swimming. He took another drink of water to steady himself, only to remember that it was wine. "... No."

"What's the matter? Don't tell me that you're disappointed that you didn't win today.

Had Loras really been upset about that earlier? It seemed like ages ago, and now he hardly cared how he had done in the tournament. He shook his head.

"Good. Like I said, you were amazing. You've always been good with a lance, but even I'm surprised at how much you've improved since I last saw you. ... No? Not going to thank me for that compliment? Well, alright. You said you'd tell me about Lord Renly, then."

Loras stared blearily down at the dregs of wine left in his goblet. "Renly..." he started, trying to sort his scattered thoughts. Something deeply uncomfortable had settled into his chest. Just saying the name made his stomach drop, and he felt like he could get no further words out. "Renly..."

"Yes?" Garlan prompted.

Loras slammed the goblet down onto the table. " _Renly doesn't have any friends!_ "

The servant girl clearing plates beside them jumped in surprise and backed away warily. Garlan was just as startled by the outburst, and he waved an embarrassed apology to the girl before turning back to Loras with concern.

"Don't be daft. I saw your party as you arrived, and I saw him jesting with the lords and ladies in the stands and at dinner. I don't think they would have looked so cheerful if they hated him."

Loras' breath was coming short now, and he had not noticed when his hand clenched into a fist. "They're not his friends, though. They all love him, but they don't know... did you know there's a fruit in Yi Ti that will poison you if you don't eat it with sugar? Or was it salt? I don't know. But Renly _does!_ "

" _Calm down,_ " Garlan said, speaking lowly in obvious encourage to Loras to lower his voice. "Why are you so upset over a fruit?"

"It's not just a fruit. It's, it's..."

"What is it?"

"He didn't tell anyone else that! Only me."

"That's - nice?"

"It's _not._ I, do you know what I said to him? I didn't... I didn't realize..." Loras fist clenched tighter, barely noticing the pain that shot up it from his injury. The tightness in his chest got worse and worse until he felt like he could hardly breathe.

"Loras, please just calm down. He's - he's in the ballroom now, perhaps you should-"

Loras shook his head so determinedly that he would have toppled out of his chair if Garlan had not steadied him. "No, no, you don't understand. He likes it all, he does. And _everyone_ likes him." Loras took a deep, shaky breath. "But which of _them_ does he take to the beach with him?"

"Loras-"

" _None of them_ , Garlan! He doesn't take any of them to the beach!"

He stared at Garlan imploringly, desperate for him to understand the impact of the statement, while Garlan peered back at him like he'd gone insane.

"I think you've been in your cups a bit too much," Garlan said at last, "We should get you back to your rooms."

Loras stared at his upturned goblet. The wine that had sloshed out of it was dripping off the table and soaking into the linen wrapped around his sore wrist. Drinking had not helped at all.

Defeated, Loras nodded and let Garlan help him to his feet and from the hall.

The stars were beginning to come out and the sounds of laughter and music drifted out from the ballroom into the courtyard. The cool night air did little to bring Loras' wits back to him. His head spun with every step and his legs did not seem fit to carry him.

"Why did you think it was a good idea to drink this much?" Garlan asked as he helped Loras over the stone path. He could not help but be amused by Loras' uncoordinated antics.

"I only had one cup," Loras mumbled.

" _One cup_ \- this is all from _one_ cup of wine?"

"I didn't mean to drink it. I thought it would... fix... things." What had he been trying to fix? It came back to Loras again, and the sway of the wine made the ache in his chest return stronger than ever. It was too much to bear. He sagged forward heavily under the weight of it. Garlan gave a shout, and then Loras was seated on a stone bench with Garlan kneeling in front of him. Loras stared around blearily. How had that happened?

"Are you sure you're able to walk?" Garlan asked, smiling at Loras with a look of fond exasperation.

Loras looked back at him forlornly. "I should have - gone swimming with him. I should have asked him to go swimming."

"I still have no idea what you're talking about. In fact, I'm not even sure what happened in the first place to get you so upset."

Hadn't Loras explained it? "I told Renly that he and I aren't friends."

"Then tell him you're sorry and that you didn't mean it."

"But I _did_ mean it. I felt it. I've hated him ever since I met him - before I met him, even. Only, he didn't realize... I didn't realize..." Loras had realized, of course, that Renly treated him differently than he did anyone else. He'd just never thought about what it might mean, and even worse, what it would mean for Renly if it stopped. "I... I... gods, I'm stubborn."

Smiling slightly, Garlan sat beside him on the bench and put his arm over Loras' shoulder to draw him close. "Now that's something I can agree with."

Loras leaned against Garlan and relaxed into the comforting warmth of his brother's side. Garlan was the only one whose endless teasing could calm him instead of riling him up.He missed all of his siblings really; they had been at his side for as long as he could remember, and he’d forgotten what it was like to always have a shoulder to lean on.

"I don't have any friends either, you know," he murmured into Garlan's shoulder.

"Oh? And who am I?" Garlan asked, amused.

"You're my friend. But - you're my brother too." Loras squinted, trying to figure out how to explain it. The wine made his thoughts sluggish and it was getting harder and harder to string words together. "It's different. You see - you see how it's different? I've always had you, and Willas and Margaery... but..."

"Yes, I see how it's different. We're stuck with you whether we like it or not, while this poor Renly fellow has just made the mistake of choosing an annoying little clod to befriend."

A dozen objections came to mind at that, but between the sway of the wine and undeniable truth of the statement, Loras' only reply was, " _Exactly._ "

"If you're this upset about it, I really think you should apologize to him and make up for it."

"You sound like Willas," Loras grumbled.

Garlan chuckled. "Good. Willas always knows what he's talking about. Isn’t that right, Loras? ... Loras ... Loras, stay awake!"

"What...?" Loras asked, blinking.

Garlan sighed and tried very hard not to look so amused at what would undoubtedly result in a colossal hangover for Loras. "Here's what you should do about all this: sleep on it, and see what you think of it in the morning. You're in no state to do anything about it now and moping about it will only make you feel worse."

Loras nodded and clumsily wrapped his arms around Garlan's chest in a hug, mumbling his gratitude. He'd missed his brother terribly and felt absurdly grateful to have him at his side. Even Garlan's hand ruffling his hair was a welcome annoyance.

"Oh, and there's one more thing you should do," Garlan said, "though I'm sure you'll figure this out after the way you feel tomorrow morning. Next time you're in King Robert's halls, _please_ try to pour your wine with a lighter hand."


	5. Chapter 5

"M'lord? M'lord, you'll have to get up now if you want to eat before the melee..."

Loras jerked awake and rolled over in bed, just as his stomach rolled over sickeningly. He cracked an eyelid open. A servant he didn't recognize was standing over him and looking more than a little startled by Loras' face. If Loras looked anywhere near as bad as he felt, he couldn't blame the man for being shocked. Even the morning sunlight stung so bad that Loras winced.

"Um... Lord Renly sent me to wake you. He's breaking his fast in the main hall now," the servant continued. When he realized that the only response he would get was a blank, pained stare from Loras, he bowed and shuffled from the room.

It took several long moments before Loras worked up the energy to sit up in bed. Every inch of him ached, and being upright made him feel twice as ill. He could not recall ever feeling so awful. The pounding head, the nausea, the clammy skin... He felt not unlike he'd been hit with a battering ram.

Loras was to his feet and half-dressed by the time the servant returned with a tray of food. The sight of it made Loras' stomach roll again. He'd barely eaten the day before but with the after-effects of the wine, food held little appeal. He managed some bread and water, but left the fruit and the - _gods,_ the cup of wine - untouched.

Renly had decided not to fight in the melee, but Loras checked his rooms before leaving just in case. He was relieved to find them empty. Right now he could not bear to face Renly, not after yesterday, so he left the Red Keep on his own.

The tourney grounds held significantly less wonder than they had the day before. The morning sun made his eyes ache, and the clanking and banging from the entrants practicing with blunted weapons echoed twice as loud in his pounding head. 

"You, lad?" the melee advisor said when Loras approached him to enter his name, "I'm afraid not. A boy your size would be crushed to death far too easily, and I'll not have that on my hands."

Loras tried to look as tough as he possibly could while his body was screaming at him to curl up and sleep. "I know how to fight. Didn't you see me in the joust yesterday?"

The advisor was unconvinced. "A joust is one thing - a melee is quite another. Come back next year when you've grown a little bigger," he said, and ruffled Loras' hair before sending him on his way.

Tired, aching, and now angry and disappointed on top of it all, Loras trudged among the pavilions towards the battlefield. _It wasn't fair._ He could fight as well as any of these men, he was sure. Being small had nothing to do with it. He hated that everyone still seemed to see him as a child, no matter how well he had proved himself, and he _hated_ having his hair ruffled. Grudgingly, he combed his fingers through the curls, trying to neaten them again.

But soon he wondered if sitting out from the melee was for the best. His steps turned to staggering as a fresh wave of nausea started to overtake him. When a cold sweat broke out on his brow, he could take it no longer. He had to steady himself against the wooden fence at the edge of the battlefield and rested his head in his arms, taking deep breaths and trying very hard not to be sick.

"Loras? Is that you?"

Loras jerked upright too quickly, making his head spin. Renly's worried face peered back at him. A wash of nervousness hit him, making the nausea worse, and he tried to gather an adequate greeting.

" _My lord,_ " he managed.

"You look awful. Here, come have a seat." Renly led Loras over to the edge of the gallery and seated him on a step. It was out of the direct line of the blazing sun, thankfully, though Loras still had to duck his head away from it. Renly's warm hand on his shoulder made him feel more steady and more nervous at the same time. "Are you sure you want to fight in the melee like this?"

"I was refused from the melee," Loras admitted, head still hanging, "The advisor said I was too small."

"Perhaps he's right. Ser Soren tells me that size has greater effect in combat than in a joust. He'll be sorry to hear about this, though. He's grown fond of you."

Finally Loras was able to bear the sunlight enough to glance up at Renly. There was an awkwardness to the casual words that was uncharacteristic to Renly, and a tense angle to his usual smile. His expression turned to worry when he met Loras' bloodshot eyes.

"And you're looking very unwell besides," Renly continued with a frown. "I spoke to your brother last night and he said you were poorly. Are you not feeling much better?"

The concern in Renly's face made Loras hurt worse than the after-effects of the wine. "I'm... fine," Loras lied.

"You really don't look it. Perhaps you should go back to the castle and rest."

"No," Loras said quickly. If he wasn't going to be allowed to fight, he at least wanted to watch, even if he wanted to stay as far away from Renly as possible at the same time.

"Really Loras, you'll only feel worse sitting out here in the sun. Come, I'll take you back-"

" _No!_ " Loras insisted, too loudly. It made his head throb, and worse, Renly recoiled as if burned. "I mean..." Loras desperately clutched for words, trying to find a way to explain away the sharpness of his tone. Renly looked like he was the one considering an apology, which was all wrong.

 _Tell him you're sorry_ , Loras said to himself.

But the words didn't come. He stared at Renly for several moments, until Renly cracked an awkward smile again.

"You know best," he said.

"Loras?" another voice called. Loras grit his teeth at the sight of Garlan approaching, already dressed in his armor for the melee and with a worried look on his face.

"Ser Garlan," Renly greeted as Garlan reached them.

"Lord Renly," Garlan replied, nodding politely, "Is Loras alright?"

"I'm _fine,_ " Loras insisted for what felt like the twentieth time.

Whether from the lack of armor or his sickly complexion, Garlan immediately seemed to know that Loras would not be fighting in melee today. "Should you even be out of bed?" he asked warily. He reached to touch Loras' forehead, as if checking for fever, and Loras pushed his hand away.

"I'm _fine!_ " he said again. "I'm going to stay and watch the melee, and everyone can stop telling me I'm sick, because I'm _not._ "

He got to his feet to prove it, and instantly regretted it. His stomach lurched, his head spun, and Renly had to catch his arm to prevent him from toppling over. Loras clutched desperately to his arm as he struggled again not to be sick.

Garlan sighed. "Fine, are you?" he asked.

"Loras, really. You're going to go rest, and that's an order," Renly said firmly once Loras was steady on his feet.

There was a forced and ill-suited edge to Renly's voice with it. Renly very rarely ordered him to do anything - yesterday Loras would have been pleased at it, even something that had little to do with his duties, but today it was not so. Again the uneasiness in Renly's face was because of Loras. If not for what Loras had so bluntly informed Renly of yesterday, Renly would not be forcing himself into something so uncomfortable.

Loras' chest felt tight, adding to the full body ache that already consumed him. But this was what he had asked for, and he nodded solemnly.

"Yes, my lord," he conceded.

"Come with me. You can lie down in my pavilion," Garlan told him, "We'll leave Lord Renly to go find a seat in the gallery from where he can watch me take the champion's purse today."

Renly grinned at him, hiding his previous discomfort easily. "I look forward to it, ser. Luck to you, and, erm..." Renly glanced at Loras, who was staring determinedly down at his feet and refusing to meet Renly's eye. "Luck to you as well?"

Loras only nodded.

Garlan led them off through the maze of pavilions towards his own. Loras kept his head low, half from avoiding the glare of sunlight and half from misery. The memory of the hurt look on Renly's face last night still lingered in his mind, leaving him conflicted and confused. He knew he did not live up to the significance that Renly placed on him, but he could not decide how he felt about it or what he should do.

Garlan's pavilion was closer to the Blackwater and away from the concentrated noise of the camp. The flowing water provided a much more soothing sound to Loras' aching head than the clash of steel. Somewhere on their way the thought of a featherbed to curl up on had become much more appealing than fighting in the melee. Loras collapsed onto Garlan's mattress and dragged a sleeping fur over his head.

"Did you apologize to Lord Renly?" Garlan asked him almost immediately as he pulled up a chair beside the bed.

Loras burrowed deeper into the furs.

Garlan did not let him avoid the question, and he lifted the edge of one of the furs to peer in at Loras. "Well?"

"I didn't apologize," Loras admitted.

"Because you're too arrogant to admit you made a mistake?"

Loras glared at him for that. "I... I shouldn't need to apologize. Just because he doesn't have anyone else doesn't mean I need to be his friend."

Without Renly in front of him, it was now easier to bring up the hatred Loras felt for him, even if he didn't feel it as strongly. Things had been tense but not unbearable between them this morning. In a few days everything would smooth out; Renly would treat him kindly, as he treated everyone, but would not be so strange around him or tell him such fanciful things. Loras ignored the pang in his chest at the thought of who Renly would have to tell those things to then.

"That's not how you seemed to feel yesterday."

Much of the evening was fuzzy, but Loras could remember how intensely he'd felt the sorrow over Renly's lack of companionship. His cheeks reddened at the memory. He had been... ridiculous. "That was only the wine making me maudlin," Loras said.

He hated that the sceptical look Garlan gave him made him feel the need to justify himself.

"And - it's not fair. I never told you how awful he is. He's about as useful as... as nipples on a breastplate."

Garlan looked amused. "But you quite like nipples on a breastplate," he said.

"That's not what I mean!" Loras said with a huff. "You don't know how useless he really is. He's supposed to be taking me along the path to knighthood, but I haven't learned anything since I went to Storm's End."

"That can't be true."

"It _is._ He never trains, he's never been in a battle. I was better than him even before I arrived so there's no way for me to improve with him as a master."

Garlan raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "From what I saw yesterday, you've improved tenfold. To get that close to the final round at your age... that's nothing short of amazing."

"It's only because I train with the master-at-arms. He's spends a lot of with me. But Renly doesn't have anything to do with it," Loras explained. If not for Ser Soren, Loras would have been begging to return to Highgarden within a week, and it was entirely Soren, not Renly, who Loras owed his improvement to.

But the way Garlan's frown deepened made Loras feel nervous.

"Do you really think the master-at-arms would devote so much time to a squire if he hadn't been asked to?" Garlan asked.

"Why wouldn't he? I'm... I'm very good," Loras tried to reason, "He sees that and wants a hand in it. Ser Vortimer was the same."

Garlan shook his head. "Ser Vortimer is sworn to the Tyrell family and it's his duty to train the sons of the House. How many squires did you see him give special attention to, no matter how skilled they were?"

"Ser Soren must be different, then," Loras reasoned again, but he was already starting to doubt the words. What Garlan said made more sense than Loras wanted to admit. Ser Soren was fond of him, as Renly had said, but the master-at-arms to one of the highest seats in the Seven Kingdoms certainly had many other things to look after. A squire should have been of no concern, even if he was particularly gifted.

All this time Loras had assumed that the man had merely been helping Loras because anyone with eyes could see Loras' skill, and see that he deserved the best training. He was talented, and he had so much potential, and it just seemed so natural that people should want to help him...

"Do you think Renly asked him?" he said quietly.

"You know him better than I do, but it seems likely."

Loras did know Renly, and had seen more of him than perhaps anyone had, but somehow this had never crossed his mind. Now that Garlan suggested it, however, Loras could hardly deny it.

"Then that means all this time I've spent hating him because he could not train me for battle, he's been the one responsible for my improvements." Loras swallowed dryly and fought the overwhelming sinking feeling in his stomach. "I should be thankful to him."

It was still true that Renly was not the perfect warrior that Loras had hoped to squire for and that he concerned himself little with battle skills, but he had undoubtedly noticed the importance they held to Loras. He'd even arranged for Loras to get the training he so desired. As well as that, Renly had been endlessly kind to him, making him laugh, comforting him when he was frightened, and taking him on so many adventures that Loras hardly had time to feel homesick.

Now, though, Loras felt more ill than he had all morning. This time Garlan let him pull the covers back over his face and hide.

"So then I'm not only arrogant, but stupid and cruel on top of it," he murmured beneath the furs.

It was with fondness that Garlan answered, "Not stupid and cruel. Just very, very stubborn."

Loras laughed mirthlessly. How many times had he heard that before? How many times had he proved it to be true? He thought back to the advice Willas had given him before leaving for Storm's End, that he should give Renly and Storm's End a chance and not follow his own preconceived notions of what it would be like. If only he had listened he could have saved himself from all this misery, and probably even enjoyed himself as well.

"Are you going to apologize to him, then?" Garlan asked.

"Maybe..."

He could _hear_ Garlan's frown. "Loras. Sometimes you just have to admit that you're wrong." Both of them we well aware that Loras could rarely admit his own mistakes. It was often easier to just stubbornly ignore that he knew he was wrong, rather than apologize.

Loras did just that now, sitting in silence as he mulled it over. It was getting hot beneath the furs but he was not ready to come out yet.

"Think about it. He's a good man," Garlan said at last.

"Whose side are you on here?" Loras grumbled.

The edge of the furs lifted again as Garlan peeked in at Loras with a smile on his face. "Both of your sides."

A horn blew in the distance, signally that the melee would begin shortly. Loras felt a little relieved at the chance to escape from Garlan's questioning. He just wanted a good chance to wallow in his misery, and it was getting hot hiding beneath the furs besides. He pushed them back as he watched Garlan rise from the chair to leave the pavilion.

"Fight well today," he said.

"Of course I will. It might be for the best that you're not fighting. Any favor you won yesterday would be lost when I destroyed you on the field today."

Loras managed a bit of a smile at his brother. He was not so arrogant that he didn't realize Garlan still outmatched him at this.

Garlan grinned back and waved a goodbye, but he turned back just before leaving. "Oh - I have something for you."

He bent to retrieve a bundle of papers from his trunk, then dropped it onto the bed beside Loras. Loras propped himself up on his elbow to examine the pile. The parchment at the top had his name written in his mother's neat hand.

"Letters from home, for your name day," Garlan explained. "I was going to give these to you before I left to return to Highgarden, but you can have them now. It will give you something to do today, if you're feeling better."

This perked up Loras' mood considerably. A few letters had come from Highgarden in the time Loras had spent at Storm's End, but the distance prevented sending ravens as often as he would have liked. He thanked his brother and wished him luck again as Garlan left the pavilion.

The pain just behind his eyes made it difficult to focus on the words so his reading was slow, but he pressed on through the letters. Some sent well wishes for his name day (one sealed letter from Margaery had express instructions on it that it was _only_ to be opened on his actual name day, so Loras left that one), but many were letters that had been written over the past months, telling him about the happenings at Highgarden and how dearly Loras was missed. Loras smiled as he read them, but still the ache in his chest would not leave.

The letters before him were tangible proof of all the people who loved and cared about Loras. They'd always been there for him, and now, even apart, he was still so important that they thought of him and his happiness. But Renly... Loras often helped Renly with the letters the ravens brought to Storm's End each day, and he'd not seen even one personal message come in. No friendly letters from his brothers or other family, or the friends he didn't have. Occasionally Renly received a letter from this or that lord asking him to come visit, but there were never any letters like the one from Margaery telling Loras about a dream she'd had where the two of them had sailed to Norvos together, or the one from Willas with a long transcription of an anecdote about a poor man who did not realize the value of what he truly had until it was too late...

Loras would not wait until it was too late. He'd made up his mind. Yesterday he'd been miserable that Renly didn't have any true friends, but Loras had the perfect solution right before him, and it was one that both of them would enjoy.

Whether he'd admitted it before or not, there was no one who knew Renly as well as Loras did. And now that Loras had no reason to dislike him, he realized he _did_ like Renly. It felt good to finally admit it to himself. Loras could hardly imagine what it would be like if he wasn't always trying to force himself to be miserable, how much he might truly enjoy being Renly's friend. He was going to make the most of it.

Flinging the covers back, Loras jumped from the bed to go find Renly - and regretted it instantly as the nausea from earlier hit him full force again. He collapsed back onto the mattress as his vision spun and his stomach rolled. Later... it would have to wait until later.

* * *

 

They did not linger in the capital, as Loras thought they might, and the day after the tournament ended the huge party from Storm's End was on its way again. Renly rode amid a group of his knights, talking and jesting as they traveled towards the Storm Lands. Loras was at his side - he'd been right to imagine that Renly would go to treating Loras with the same friendliness as he did everyone else, but a trained eye could see the discomfort beneath the light conversation. Loras took it as a good sign. If Renly was still uncomfortable acting casually with Loras then it meant that he'd not gotten past his previous assumption of friendship, so Loras had a chance to repair it.

Now Loras was glad that he hadn't immediately rushed out to find Renly the day before, as he still had little idea of what he wanted to say. _I'm sorry?_ No, that wouldn't do. Ignoring the echo of Garlan's voice telling him that he just had to admit his mistake, he decided that the best thing to do would be to _show_ Renly that he desired for things to return as they had been. Loras usually only listened to the amusing and carefree things that Renly came up with, but if he were to start sharing his own secret thoughts and imaginings with Renly, then Renly would soon catch on. He had to.

It did not take Loras long to realize the flaw in his plan. He'd never been particularly gifted with imagination. It had always been that way; Margaery was the one who made up their games when they were young, and though Loras could follow her ideas with great gusto, he'd rarely been able to come up with any on his own.

Still, he began his search for the _perfect_ thing that would present itself:

He watched the flowers pass at the side of the road, thinking if any had interesting names or lore that he could tell to Renly, but could think of nothing.

He tried again when they stopped travelling to set up camp in the evening, gazing around at the feasting lords and ladies to find something amusing that Renly might like, but did not see anything out of the ordinary.

His eyes turned up to the clouds in search of some shape he could point out to Renly...

"It looks like it might rain," was all he could come up with.

Renly glanced up as well. The clouds were not particularly dark, but they were pretty, glowing pink and blue in the light of setting sun. "I hope you're right. It's so hot that I don't know how anyone will be able to sleep in this heat. Look, that cloud is shaped like a..."

Renly cut himself off before he could finish the sentiment, and he flashed Loras a strained smile before bidding him goodnight.

It did not rain, unsurprisingly, and even after the sun set the heat did not relent. Loras lay awake in bed, tossing and turning. The heavy heat made the touch of sleeping furs unbearable and his mind reeled as he still searched for something he could say to Renly the next day. It was frustrating to be faced with something he was so poor at. The imaginings seemed to come to Renly so easily, but Loras was certain that he could struggle for a month and still come up with nothing.

He turned over again in bed restlessly. His body was too hot, but his mind was starting to drift off in search of sleep. A light breeze had started to pick up, and though it brought little respite from the heat, the sounds of the leaves in the wind were a soothing sound that lulled his mind.

And suddenly the perfect thing to say came to him. He listened to the forest gently rustling all around in the breeze, and Loras imagined himself rolling over in bed to murmur in Renly's ear, " _It sounds like the Children of the Forest are whispering to each other._ "

Loras jerked awake, suddenly shaken and uncomfortable at the thought, because why had he been imagining Renly next to him in bed? He sat up on the edge of the mattress and shook his head to clear it. It was only a dream. He'd fallen asleep, and the heat and frustrations of the day made this mind wander to strange places.

Whatever madness had brought the dream left a sense of clarity in its wake. He had to accept it - he just had no proper imagination. There was no choice but to be blunt about it. He'd made up his mind and he would not hesitate this time.

Loras rose from bed and dressed, then left his pavilion. He could hear signs all around him that the camp was still active and that he was not the only one unable to find sleep in the heat. Renly's pavilion next to his own was still lit up, but something told Loras he would not find Renly in there. His gaze drifted over to the edge of the thick forest where the dim light of the camp torches barely illuminated a break in the trees for a game trail.

Unthinking, Loras let his feet carry him towards it and he entered the forest.

The light and sounds of the camp faded behind him as the darkness grew, until Loras could barely see what was ahead of him. Just as he was starting to wonder if this had been a truly awful idea, a point of light appeared up ahead.

It became clearer as he drew closer. The torch had been stuck into the sand so it stood upright, casting light over the figure stretched out next to it. A new sound joined the rustle of the leaves, like the lap of waves, and Loras realized it was just that as the vast lake before him came into view. Trees surrounded it on all sides and the reflections of the stars twinkled prettily on its surface.

A twig snapped beneath Loras' boot as he neared, and Renly startled and sat up. He glanced over his shoulder, a look of fear illuminated in the torchlight for a moment, before he spotted Loras and cast a small smile at him.

"I'm sorry, I should have left word before leaving camp. Just, I knew there was a lake around here, and it's so hot..."

Renly's boots sat next to him in the sand and he had his bare feet pushed among the reeds at the edge of the lake, so the cool water lapped against them. It was not hard to tell why Renly had retreated here to escape the heat. Even the air was pleasantly cooler, and it was soothing against the sweat that had beaded on Loras' skin from the short walk.

Renly looked at him curiously, but said nothing as Loras took a seat next to him in the sand. They sat in silence for a while, listening to the sounds of the forest and the lake, and the occasional splash as Renly moved his feet in the water. The torchlight bounced off the ripples and Loras watched it unseeingly as he worked up his courage. He'd come here with a purpose and there was no backing down now, but it was still difficult to say. He took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry."

Loras turned to stare at Renly, the one who had spoken. There was an uncharacteristically timid look to Renly's face as gazed at Loras with his lower lip caught between his teeth.

"I didn't realize how unhappy you were since you came to Storm's End," he continued, "Or maybe I did, and I chose not to see it because I didn't want to believe it."

Even in the dim light, his guilt was plain to see. It wasn't right - Renly should not blame himself or apologize for that when Loras had worked so hard to keep it secret.

"I didn't show it," Loras explained, hoping it was enough.

Renly raised an eyebrow and smiled a little. "Oh? You're not exactly a subtle person, Loras. There are plenty of times when I should have noticed it. But I looked right past that and saw only what I wanted to see."

Loras could only stare at him. "My lord..." he murmured, barely a protest. He wanted to blurt out his own apology, but the same problem as before stopped his tongue. He wished he could be as brave as Renly with this. Renly didn't even look away, just looked at Loras with honesty and acceptance that was almost painful to see.

"Ha, you don't have to pretend for my sake anymore. I was a poor friend too if I didn't want to see that. I caught glimpses here and there, but, I thought that all friends got annoyed with each other now and then. It just should not be all the time. I promise you, now I'll stop trying to be a friend, and instead try to be a better master."

"But you don't have any other friends," Loras said at once.

It came out much more rudely than he intended. It was a harsh truth, though it was not said to be mocking - but Renly had a way of picking up the subtleties of it, and his meek smile said that he understood that it was not meant to cruel.

"No, I don't. That's how this started, really. I admit that I... well, I didn't have the most honest intentions when I agreed to take you as a squire." Renly paused and rubbed his neck nervously. "We're not so different. We're both from Great Houses - both third sons as well, and we're even close in age. So when your father asked me to take you as a squire, I jumped at the chance."

Loras frowned as he tried to puzzle out what Renly was saying. "That's not unusual. Sons of noble Houses usually squire for someone of equal or higher status to their own House."

"It was more than that. I'd never had someone who was an equal to me like that. Everyone always wants something from me, or they hold back and grovel because of my status. I thought I would be so much happier if I just had someone who was on level footing with me. A squire should not have been the place to look for it but I admit, that's what I did. I wanted a friend who could just see me as me, and I wanted it badly enough that I was willing to ignore that you didn't feel the same. I'm sorry for not being honest about that, and I'm sorry I asked too much of you."

It wasn't easy for Renly to admit either - he looked miserable, and he seemed hardly aware that his fingers were anxiously running through the sand, but he pushed himself through the apology that he did not need to give. But Loras... Loras sat there and let Renly make himself feel more and more miserable, all because he was too proud to admit he was wrong.

"It's not too much!" Loras blurted, finally finding his courage. "It's not. You treated me kindly - more kindly than I deserved, and if you're guilty of only seeing what you want to see, then I'm far worse."

"I doubt that," Renly said, but Loras nodded anxiously.

"It's my fault. Even before I came to Storm's End, I assumed... well, you're not awful with sword or lance, and if you tried you could be good, but you don't - you just don't take it seriously, and you lounge around all day and sometime you sleep past _noon_ -"

"Is this meant to be an apology?" Renly asked, laughing now.

Smiling a bit at Renly's amusement and his own tirade, Loras continued. "I'm trying to say that I did the same thing as you. I ignored everything else. I only saw those things and that was all I cared about, and I decided most of them before I even met you. Maybe they're true but... you asked Ser Soren to train me, didn't you?"

Renly nodded. "Once I realized your father's boasts about your skill were more than just fatherly pride, I knew I could not train you in that myself. I asked Ser Soren for his help. I wanted to allow you to go to battle with my knights, actually, but Soren suggested that we should wait until you're a little taller."

Loras' heart soared at the thought that soon he might be allowed to join the knights of Storm's End as they rode out to deal with brigands and raiders. That was what he'd hoped for most in being a squire. And that it had been so close all this time...

"And I knew I could still be a good a master to you," Renly continued determinedly, spurred on by the look of awe on Loras' face, "There's more to being a knight than just battle skills, and those things I know I can teach you. Perhaps a bit more about subtlety..." He laughed. "But, you'll lead your father's armies one day. I'll make sure you're ready for that."

Willas had tried telling Loras the same thing - that there was more to squiring than fighting, but Loras had barely listened. Now he wished he hadn't been so stubborn. Battle experience or not, Renly's knights would follow him anywhere. He was adored in the Stormlands and beyond and Loras had witnessed firsthand his talents for winning the trust and friendship of others. If being a leader was what Loras was to learn, there were few who he could learn more from than Renly. But that wasn't what Loras wanted.

"I don't want to lead my father's armies. I want to join the Kingsguard," Loras admitted quietly.

He'd never said it out loud to anyone and he wasn't entirely sure why he felt the need to say it now. It was the same childish dream that every young boy held, whether he was beggar or from a noble house, and it was treated with as much seriousness as a boy saying that he wanted to grow up to be a dragon. Loras had feared that it would make the grown men and ladies treat him as a silly child even more than they already did, but Renly didn't look at him like he was being childish.

"If anyone can make it, it's you. I have no doubt that you'll get there one day," he said, smiling.

Loras shook his head. "Not one day. I wanted to be the youngest member ever."

"You didn't say anything before." Renly looked as troubled as if his own dream was in jeopardy. "There's not much time left - Jaime Lannister joined when he was fifteen. Why didn't you start earlier as a squire then?"

"I didn't want to leave my family. So I stayed with them as long as possible. As much as I wanted that record, I guess..." Loras paused to puzzle it out, and smiled when it came to him. "Some things are more important."

He'd not thought of it before like that, but it was true. Even before turning ten his father had started asking him when he'd like to begin squiring and Loras had found excuse after excuse to delay it as long as possible. His quest to join the Kingsguard would mean leaving his family. When it came to the choice between one or the other, he'd made the decision without even realizing it.

Renly smiled, looking wistful at the notion. "I'm sure you can still make it. I'll try to arrange something else for you. Perhaps there's some other knight you could squire for, who could help you get there faster..."

"No," Loras answered quickly.

"But two years is not a lot of time to earn a knighthood, and I can't knight you for nothing," Renly said with a frown. "Don't you want to follow your dream?"

Loras shrugged, smiling a little shyly. "I don't need to hurry to join the Kingsguard just to break a record."

"What's made you change your mind?"

This time, Loras did not even need to think about it. "Some things are more important," he answered.

A look caught between shock and embarrassment came to Renly's face as he caught the meaning of Loras' words, and a blush started to rise in his cheeks. He laughed nervously. "Really, Loras, you don't have to be friendly just for my sake."

"This is what I want," Loras insisted.

"You admitted yourself that you could barely stand me."

"Because I was only seeing what I wanted to see. It's like I said - I was so worried that you weren't a proper knight that I saw only that, and did not even notice that you'd arranged for me to get that training anyway. Now that I've stopped being so, so... _stubborn,_ I can see that you're a great master to me."

Renly still looked unconvinced, but he nodded in agreement. "If this is what you really want, then we'll do as you said. I'll treat you as a master should treat a squire."

Sighing, Loras could not help but wonder if Renly was being thick on purpose. "Will you listen to me? It's more than that. Even when I thought I hated you I still enjoyed spending time together. I like the weird things you talk about, and we have _fun_. No one has ever made me laugh so much before. You listen to me, and you don't laugh at me, and you - you never ruffle my hair."

"Ruffle your hair?"

Loras shuddered in annoyance just thinking about it. " _All_ adults do it to me, and I hate it. But you've never done it. Not even when we met."

"Perhaps I just thought that it didn't need to be mussed up any more?" Renly suggested, but now there was a hopeful look growing in his eyes. Even in the orange glow of the fire, Loras was sure he could still see the blue in them.

"Even so, you didn't do it. You treat me like an adult - no, like a friend. And... I'm sorry for what I said, and if you still want to be my friend, then I'd... I'd like to be friends, Renly."

It took a moment, but a smile slowly spread across Renly's face and now Loras was sure he could see more than just a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

"I'd really like that, Loras," he said.

It was like a weight was lifted off Loras' shoulders and he found himself grinning back. The sudden lightness the words had brought to his heart made him happy enough to sing. Instead, he got to his knees and shuffled across the sand to wrap his arms around Renly in a hug. Renly laughed and hugged him back without hesitation, pulling Loras close against him. It felt nice to be pressed against his broad chest and both of them were still grinning even when they parted.

The grin on Renly's face was quickly replaced by surprise.

"Oh! I've just remembered - it's your name day, isn't it?"

Was it really? Loras had to think about it, but yes, the hour must have rolled well past midnight by now. "It is," he said, smiling. He was officially twelve.

Renly's disappointment was clear. "I haven't gotten you a gift. I'll find the perfect thing once we're back at Storm's End, I promise."

"You don't have to do that," Loras told him. That he was sitting here with a friend - his first friend, was more than enough to make him happy. An almost giddiness had come over him and he felt more excited than he had in days.

"I want to. I feel awful for having forgotten," Renly said, still disappointed. "Is there anything you wanted?"

Loras pondered for a moment, trying to recall if there was anything he'd been thinking about. It hit him then - and it was like a madness overtook him. Within seconds he had jumped to his feet and kicked his boots off next to Renly's in the sand, then started on the fastenings of his tunic.

"What are you doing?" Renly asked with a laugh.

Loras threw his tunic aside, and his breeches were added to the pile next. Standing in only his smallclothes, he could not keep the excited smile off his face as he pointed to the lake.

"We once decided that we could only go swimming at night. And I want that."

Renly laughed happily and was already starting to rise along with him, but he made a show of deliberately stopping to flash a mock worried look at Loras.

"Are you sure? Some might say it’s..." Renly paused as he tried to remember the exact word Loras had used. "... _ignoble._ "

Loras grinned over his should as he stepped into the cool water at the edge of the lake. "Who's going to say that now?"

And with a laugh and a smile, Renly followed him into the water.

-END-


End file.
